THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


A     NOVEL. 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  "THE  ODD  THUMP,"  "HARWOOD,"  ETC. 


It<w 
E.  J.  HALE  &  SON,  PUBLISHEES, 

MURRAY  STREET. 
1875. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1875,  by 

E.  J.  HALE  &  SON, 
in  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  "Washington. 


Rs 


PREFACE. 


The  gracious  reception  of  "  THE  ODD  TRUMP  "  and 
"HARWOOD,"  by  the  Public,  encourages  the  Author  to  offer 
the  present  volume. 

He  would  fain  believe  that  his  effort  to  produce  a 
series  of  Novels  which,  at  least,  should  not  be  hurtful  in 
tone  or  teaching,  has  been  successful. 

In  the  hope  that  this  negative  merit  will  atone  for 
imperfection  in  diction,  plot  and  construction,  he  presents 
the  third  volume  of  the  "ODD  TRUMP  SERIES." 

NEW  YORK,  September,  1875. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE. 

CHAPTER  I.     Dr.  Cunningham's  Testimony 7 

II.    Child  Stealing 18 

HI.    Mrs.  "Willis's  Confession 27 

IV.  John  Hawder's  Story 33 

V.  Captain  Strong's  Story 39 

VI.  The  Ladies 58 

VII.  The  Gentlemen 64 

VIII.  The  Red  Hall 70 

IX.  Sir  Ranald  De  Lacy 74 

X.  The  Prophecy 79 

XL     The  Lacy  Diamonds 84 

XII.  Two  Happy  Fellows 88 

XIII.  Ebenezer 92 

XIV.  The  Smugglers' Cave 95 

XV.  Ah!  ChelaMorte' 100 

XVI.  Willis 104 

XVII.  One  Year  Later ;  Mr.  Butler 109 

XVIII.  BadNews 113 

XIX.  Colonel  Sir  John  Lacy 117 

XX.  Swiss 122 

XXL  The  Power  of  Prayer. 126 

XXII.  A  Letter 131 

XXIII.  Another  Letter 136 

XXIV.  Nellie 140 

XXV.  The  Gamekeeper 145 

XXVI.  Swiss  in  Trouble 149 

XXVII.  Swiss  Explains 154 

X  XVIIL     A  Monologue — Masculino 157 

XXIX.    Another  Monologue — Feminine 161 


G  CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

CHAPTER  XXX.     The  Rector  Explains 165 

XXXI.  The  Letter 169 

XXXII.  Clare's  Sympathy 174 

XXXIII.  Two  Tears  Later 178 

XXXIV.  Stirling 182 

XXXV.  A  Compagnon  de  Voyage 187 

XXXVI.  The  Rector's  Scottish  Friend 192 

XXXVII.  Miss  Clare's  Explanations 196 

XXXVIII.  Phrenological 200 

XXXIX.  Tommy 205 

XL.     Some  Revelations 209 

XLL     The  Rector's  Chase 214 

XLII.     TheDonkeys 218 

XLIII.    Nellie  Lost 223 

XLIV.    Another  Voyage 228 

XLV.    Adieul 232 

XLVI.     OntheTrack 237 

XLVII.     On  the  Right  Track 241 

XLVIII.    The  Cain  Mark 246 

XLIX.     The  Kinsmen 250 

L,     Love  Tokens 254 

LI.     Sir  Elbert  Lacy 258 

LII.    The  Drowned  Rats 263 

LIII.     A  Confession 268 

LIV.     Ornithological 272 

LV.     The  Lords  of  Creation 276 

LVL    L'Envoi..  281 


THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 


CHAPTER    I. 

DOCTOR  CUNNINGHAM'S  TESTIMONY. 

IT  was  raining — I  was  going  to  say,  cats  and  dogs,  but  it  was  a 
great  deal  worse — it  was  raining  pins  and  needles.  I  was  riding 
in  a  north-easterly  direction,  and  the  little,  sharp  particles  of  frost 
scarified  my  nose  and  my  right  cheek  in  an  extremely  unpleasant 
manner.  My  horse  winced  and  snorted  as  each  gust  swept  over 
us  5  and  as  my  road  lay  along  the  west  bank  of  the  river,  we  were 
ever  and  anon  exposed  to  the  full  violence  of  the  storm,  as  it  came 
roaring  across  the  broad  water.  Sometimes  a  curve  in  the  stream, 
which  the  road  did  not  follow,  would  give  me  the  slender  protection 
of  a  clump  of  dwarf  cedars,  but  I  never  had  the  friendly  shelter 
long  at  a  time ;  and  it  always  seemed,  as  I  emerged  from  the  lee 
of  the  bushes,  that  the  fragments  of  sleet  were  considerably  heav 
ier,  sharper  and  more  numerous  than  before. 

I  had  left  home  early  in  the  afternoon,  before  the  rain,  and  as  I 
had  a  long  ride  before  me,  and  some  prospect  of  detention,  I  told  my 
wife  that  I  should  probably  be  away  all  night.  I  was  called  out 
to  visit  a  poor  patient,  John  Hawder,  who  lived  full  eight  miles 
from  my  home.  Had  he  been  a  richer  man,  I  should  have  postponed 
the  visit  until  the  next  day ;  but  I  promised  myself,  when  I  first 
began  the  practice  of  medicine,  that  the  poor  should  always  have 
my  services  upon  demand.  Hawder  was  very  sick.  He  had  no 
near  neighbours,  and  he  lived  alone  with  his  little  motherless  boy 
in  a  log  house  near  the  river  bank.  I  don't  know  how  the  man 
lived,  but  he  never  seemed  to  be  in  actual  want.  I  left  him  with 
a  heavy  heart,  after  I  had  prescribed  for  him,  and  was  the  more 
saddened  by  the  cheerfulness  of  little  Elbert,  his  son,  who  listened 
with  great  gravity  to  my  instructions  as  to  the  administration  of 
the  medicines.  I  had  intended  to  go  to  a  farm  house  two  or  three 
miles  back  from  the  river,  where  I  also  had  a  patient,  but  as  this 


8  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

case  was  not  at  all  urgent,  I  concluded  to  go  back  home  from 
Hawder's.  The  storm  caught  me  before  I  had  ridden  a  mile  on  my 
homeward  journey. 

It  grew  worse  and  worse.  I  pulled  up  my  horse  under  the  lee  of 
a  "yaller  pine,"  Pinus  mitis,  a  stunted  tree  which  afforded  very 
insufficient  shelter.  There  were  three  long  miles  of  exposed  road 
right  up  the  river  bank  before  I  could  turn  my  back  upon  the 
water  and  the  sharp  blast  that  whistled  over  it.  The  sleet  rattled 
through  the  thick  foliage  of  the  little  tree,  sounding  like  a  rain  of 
shot  upon  plate  glass.  I  rubbed  my  nose,  wondering  how  long  I 
could  keep  that  useful  and  ornamental  feature  if  I  faced  the  storm 
again.  There  was  a  ferry  just  at  this  point,  and  while  I  was  debat 
ing  about  the  dreary  prospect  ahead,  I  heard  the  sound  of  oars, 
and  presently  saw  the  boat  come  up  to  the  landing,  and  a  passen 
ger  leap  lightly  to  the  bank.  I  saw  him  hand  a  piece  of  money  to 
the  boatman,  and  heard  him  say :  "  You  will  have  a  hard  pull  back, 
old  fellow,  and  ought  to  have  double  fare.  Good  night !" 

He  came  up  the  bank,  crunching  in  the  sleet  that  now  whitened 
the  ground.  As  he  reached  the  level  of  the  road  he  saw  me. 

"  Hillo,  stranger !"  he  said,  in  a  cheery  voice,  "  are  you  going  to 
Baird's  P  and  he  drew  nearer.  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  I 
was  thinking  how  jolly  it  would  be  if  you  could  put  me  across  the 
creek  dry  shod." 

He  was  a  handsome  fellow,  about  twenty -five,  frank  and  manly 
looking.  While  he  waited  for  my  answer,  his  blue  eyes  twinkling, 
and  his  white  teeth  glistening  in  the  twilight,  I  made  up  my  mind. 
Baird's  tavern  was  a  little  country  inn,  rather  more  than  a  mile 
from  the  river.  I  had  never  been  there,  but  I  knew  it  was  on  this 
road,  leading  west  from  the  ferry. 

"  I  think  I  will  go  to  Baird's,"  I  answered ;  "  my  home  is  so  dis 
tant,  and  the  storm  will  then  be  behind  me  at  least.  Beppo  will 
carry  double,  so  I  can  put  you  across  the  creek,  if  there  is  one  to 
be  crossed.  Will  you  mount  at  once  f ' 

''Thank  you,  no,"  replied  the  stranger;  "I  have  been  cramped 
up  in  that  boat,  and  want  to  stretch  my  legs  a  little.  I  can  keep 
up  with  you  for  a  mile,  anyhow,"  and  he  started  up  the  road  at  a 
brisk  pace,  ahead  of  me. 

As  I  followed,  I  noticed  that  he  had  a  knapsack  strapped  to  his 
back.  He  was  dressed  in  coarse,  homespun  garments,  the  legs  of 
his  trousers  stuffed  into  his  boots,  and  his  coat  collar  turned  up, 
covering  his  ears  and  most  of  his  face.  The  brim  of  his  slouched 


DOCTOR  CUNNINGHAM'S  TESTIMONY.  9 

hat  drooped  around  his  head,  and  he  looked  as  though  he  could 
endure  the  pelting  of  the  storm  far  better  than  I  could.  As  we 
advanced  into  the  woods  the  pines  grew  larger,  and  we  were  a  little 
more  protected  from  the  sharp  wind  and  sleet. 

11  This  is  a  dreary  country,"  he  said,  as  he  strode  along  beside 
me ;  "it  affords  a  striking  contrast  to — to — lands  that  I  have  seen 
elsewhere.  The  hand  of  man  has  not  done  much  towards  smooth 
ing  the  rugged  front  of  nature  in  this  locality.  The  inn  is  a  mile 
from  the  river,  and  two  hundred  yards  beyond  the  creek."  He  said 
this  with  the  air  of  one  repeating  a  lesson. 

"You  mean  the  country  is  dreary  in  comparison  with  your 
own." 

"  In  comparison  with  my  own  F  he  repeated. 

"Yes,  with  England.    You  are  an  Englishman F 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  should  think  so,"  he  answered. 

"Oh,  you  called  Baird's  an  'inn7  just  now.  Besides,  there  is  a 
certain  accent  which  distinguishes  your  countrymen." 

"  Do  I  drop  my  H's,  or  make  too  liberal  a  use  of  them  F  he  re 
plied,  laughing.  "  I  wonder  if  I  may  consider  it  complimentary  to 
be  taken  for  a  Britisher.  I  cannot  discover  any  remarkable  differ 
ence  between  my  speech  and  yours." 

"You  have  decided  then  that  I  am  an  American  F  replied  I. 

"  Yes.     I  don't  know,  though.     I  can't  say,  I'm  sure." 

"  There  you  go  again !  Americans  don't  say  *  I  can't  say,  I'm 
sure.'  They  are  not  sure,  they  guess." 

"Well,  I  shall  count  you  for  a  countryman  till  you  deny  it.  I 
am  Mr.  John  Smith,  at  your  service." 

"  I  think  I  have  heard  the  name  before.  I  am  Dr.  Cunningham, 
at  your  service,  sir." 

He  pulled  off  his  mitten  and  gave  me  his  hand,  which  was 
white  and  soft.  Altogether,  he  impressed  me  with  the  idea  that 
his  ordinary  dress  was  not  homespun,  nor  his  proper  name  John 
Smith. 

Baird's  was  a  lonely  country  tavern,  where  all  the  inmates  seemed 
to  be  just  waking  from  a  nap.  I  saw  Beppo  sheltered  in  a  comforta 
ble  stable  and  supplied  with  a  sufficient  quantity  of  hay  and  oats. 
Mr.  Smith  stood  by  while  I  gave  my  directions  to  the  hostler, 
and  then  we  entered  the  public  room  together.  The  landlord  went 
behind  his  bar,  expecting  us  to  imbibe  some  of  his  potations,  but 
he  was  disappointed.  We  told  him  we  wanted  supper  and  beds, 
with  the  privilege  of  smoking  by  his  cheerful  wood  fire  after  we 


10  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

had  satisfied  the  cravings  of  hunger.  We  soon  had  some  hot  coffee, 
some  broiled  ham  and  good  biscuits  and  butter.  The  evening  meal 
appeared  to  be  over,  as  my  companion  and  I  were  the  only  persons 
at  the  table. 

"  I  feel  so  much  invigorated,"  observed  Mr.  Smith,  as  we  drew 
our  chairs  up  to  the  fire,  "  that  I  could  face  the  storm  again  now 
if  it  were  necessary.  Yours  must  be  a  hard  life,  doctor,  if  you 
are  often  exposed  to  weather  like  this." 

11 1  am  accustomed  to  it,"  I  replied,  "  and  I  do  not  find  the  duties 
of  my  profession  irksome.  In  many  cases  I  am  able  to  relieve 
suffering,  and  then  I  am  amply  repaid  for  toil  and  exposure." 

"  I  have  often  fancied,"  returned  he,  "  that  the  most  trying  part 
of  a  physician's  experience  must  be  his  constant  contact  with 
humanity  in  affliction.  It  is  true  you  can  sometimes  ameliorate 
the  condition  of  the  sick  and  suffering,  but  there  are  also  many 
cases  beyond  the  reach  of  your  art.  And  when  you  know,  as  you 
often  do  know,  undoubtedly,  that  your  patient  will  die,  you  must 
suffer  somewhat  in  advance  in  your  natural  sympathy  for  those 
about  to  be  bereaved." 

"  It  is  not  the  actual  sickness  of  my  patients  that  makes  the 
largest  drafts  upon  my  sympathies.  More  frequently  the  attending 
circumstances  affect  me  more.  Now,  to-day ."  I  paused. 

"  You  were  saying " 

"  I  hesitated,"  I  answered,  "  because  I  don't  know  that  I  would 
be  justified  if  I  tell  you  a  story  that  will  sadden  you,  especially  as 
there  seems  to  be  no  remedy." 

"  You  make  me  only  more  eager  to  hear  it.  Pray  tell  it,  unless 
there  is  some  other  reason." 

"  No.  It  may  be  told  in  a  few  words.  There  is  a  poor  fellow 
living  on  the  river  bank,  a  mile  or  two  below  the  place  where  I 
met  you,  who  is  sick.  His  name  is  Hawder.  I  think  he  is  going 
to  have  typhoid  fever  and  will  probably  die.  There  is  no  one  in  the 
'house  with  him  excepting  his  son,  a  child  probably  not  over  ten 
years  old.  I  do  not  know  whether  or  not  the  man  is  in  absolute 
poverty,  but  his  dwelling  is  not  comfortable,  and  he  requires  care 
ful  nursing.  While  I  was  there  this  afternoon  I  was  struck  with 
the  little  boy's  intelligence  and  cheerfulness.  He  listened  with 
attention  to  my  directions,  and  I  have  no  doubt  he  will  obey 
them  faithfully.  But,  somehow,  I  have  not  been  able  to  shake  off 
the  melancholy  feeling  that  comes  over  me  whenever  I  think  of 
that  child." 


DOCTOR  CUNNINGHAM'S  TESTIMONY.  11 

Mr.  John  Smith  sat  there  opposite  to  me  with  sympathy  in  his 
big  blue  eyes.  As  I  proceeded  with  my  story  he  threw  the  stump 
of  his  cigar  into  the  fire,  and  when  I  finished,  he  rose  and  buttoned 
his  coat. 

"  Please  repeat  your  directions  to  me,  doctor."  he  said  simply ;  "I 
am  going  right  down  there." 

"You?" 

"Yes,  I!  God  forgive  me!  here  am  I,  brimfull,  running  over 
with  health  and  strength,  with  nothing  to  do,  and  that  infant  is 
fighting  a  giant's  battle  alone.  Yes,  I  am  going  down  there  im 
mediately.  Here,  Mr.  Baird !  I  am  going  out  again.  I  shan't  be 
back  to-night.  Take  care  of  my  knapsack  till  I  return." 

"  Why,  sir,"  answered  the  astonished  landlord,  "  you  can't  go 
anywhere  to-night.  The  storm  is  worse  than  ever.  It  is  a  regular 
iior'easter !" 

"  That's  the  kind  of  storm  I'm  partial  to,  Mr.  Baird.  What  are 
the  directions,  doctor  ?" 

"  I  shall  order  a  strait  waistcoat  for  you  if  you  don't  sit  down 
here  and  be  quiet,"  I  answered.  "  What  has  put  this  insane  pro 
ject  into  your  head  ?" 

"  Doctor,"  he  said,  gravely,  "  I  am  going  down  to  that  sick 
man's  house.  I  am  going  if  I  have  to  encounter  ten  devils  in  my 
path.  If  you  won't  tell  me  Avhat  ought  to  be  done,  I'm  going  all 
the  same.  I  can  shield  that  boy  at  least ;  besides,  I  know  some 
thing  of  enteric  fever." 

"My  friend,  you  don't  know  all  the  case.  This  disease  may 
be,  and  probably  is,  contagious;  and  you  have  no  right  to 
throw  away  the  health  of  which  you  boast.  Is  there  no  one  living 
who  has  an  interest  in  your  life  P 

"  Pooh !"  he  replied.  "  Perhaps  there  is  j  but  I  am  not  going  to 
take  any  disease.  I  am  going  to  start  when  I  count  twenty.  If 
you'll  tell  me  what  ought  to  be  done  while  I'm  counting,  I'll  listen. 
Here  goes.  One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  seven,  eight — but  I'll 
take  my  knapsack." 

"  Stop  an  instant  and  listen.  Landlord,  is  there  a  near  way  to 
Hawder's  f  Mr.  Smith  was  strapping  his  knapsack  to  his  back. 

"  Yes,  there  is  a  road  right  down  the  creek.  There  is  a  bridge 
at  the  mouth  of  the  creek  near  his  house." 

"  Nine,  ten,  eleven,  twelve,  thirteen,  fourteen,  fifteen " 

"  Stop  again,  if  you  please.  I  left  four  or  five  powders  with  the 
child.  The  patient  ought  to  have  one  every  three  or  four  hours. 


12  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

If  he  sleeps,  don't  waken  him.  If  he  has  fever  and  is  thirsty,  give 
him  some  sleet  in  a  spoon.  It  will  be  better  than  water,  and  you 
can  get  it  at  the  door." 

"  Sixteen,  seventeen,  eighteen — how  much  sleet  may  he  have  !" 

"  As  much  as  he  wants  in  moderation.  You  had  better  take  a 
sober  second  thought " 

"Nineteen,  TWENTY!  Good  night,  doctor!"  and  he  banged 
the  door  after  him  as  he  issued  forth  into  the  storm. 

Mr.  Baird  stood  looking  stupidly  at  me,  listening  to  the  strong 
voice  of  his  departed  guest,  as  it  came  back  to  us  outroaring  the 
tempest.  He  was  singing  "  A  wet  sheet  and  a  flowing  sea,"  and 
I  heard  his  voice  dying  away  in  the  announcement  tbat  "Old 
England  was  on  his  lee."  He  had  reached  the  pines  below  the 
tavern  by  that  time,  and  we  heard  him  no  longer. 

"  Well,"  said  the  landlord,  drawing  a  long  breath,  "  he  sings 
nice,  don't  he  ?  But  it  is  a  mighty  quare  start.  I  wonder  what 
he  is  after  at  old  Hawder's  ?  He  didn't  pay  for  his  supper,  nei 
ther." 

"  He'll  be  back  again,  landlord,  to-morrow  or  next  day.  I'll 
pay  for  his  supper,  though.  Put  it  in  my  bill  to  morrow." 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  partick'ler,  doctor.  What  do  you  want,  Nelly  !" 
The  question  was  addressed  to  a  beautiful  child  that  came  into  the 
public  room  at  the  instant. 

"  I  want  the  key,"  she  answered. 

"  You  mustn't  come  in  here,  Nelly,  when  anybody  is  here,"  said 
Baird  as  he  walked  behind  the  bar.  The  girl  made  no  reply,  but 
looked  curiously  at  me. 

"  Come  here,  my  dear,"  I  said,  and  she  came  immediately.  I 
took  the  little  thing  up  on  my  knee  and  kissed  her.  "  You  are  a 
fine  little  lady.  What  is  your  name  ?" 

"Ellen." 

"What  else?" 

"Nothing  else;  only  Ellen." 

"  Here,  Nelly,  run  out  now.  Here  is  the  key,"  said  Baird  hur 
riedly.  I  kissed  the  child  again  and  put  her  down.  She  took  tbe 
key  and  vanished. 

"  What  a  beautiful  little  daughter  you  have,  landlord,"  I  said. 
"She  is  your  daughter,  I  suppose!" 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  Baird ;  "  she  is  some  relation  to  my  wife.  I've 
got  no  children." 

"  What  is  her  name  !    I  mean  her  surname." 


DOCTOR  CUNNINGHAM'S  TESTIMONY.  13 

"  Kelly  Willis,  I  s'pose,y  answered  he  discontentedly.  "  You 
see,  her  mother  wasn't  married." 

"Pardon  me.  I  did  not  mean  to  ask  an  improper  question. 
But  the  child  is  so  beautiful  that  she  interested  me.  Do  you  know 
how  old  who  is  I" 

"About  seven,  I  s'pose.  It's  storming  again  wonderful.  He'll 
have  a  nice  walk !" 

"  Who — Mr.  Smith  ?  Yes,  he  will  have  an  unpleasant  walk. 
How  far  is  it  to  Hawder's  by  the  creek  road  V1 

"  Two  miles,  good.  Where  is  he  going  to  sleep  ?  Hawder  ain't 
got  no  place  to  put  him." 

"  I  don't  think  lie  intends  to  sleep  there  to-night,"  I  replied  ;  "  but 
I  believe  I'll  try  to  get  some  sleep  myself,  if  you  will  show  me  my 
room.  I  was  called  out  very  early  this  morning." 

He  lighted  a  candle  and  led  the  way  through  a  passage  behind 
the  bar.  I  passed  him  at  the  first  landing  on  the  stairway,  and 
when  I  reached  the  hall  on  the  second  tioor  I  saw  the  child  stand 
ing  in  a  doorway.  I  held  out  my  hand  to  her  as  I  passed. 

"  Good  night,"  she  said. 

"  Good  night,  little  darling,"  and  I  stooped  down  and  kissed 
her  again. 

"  There,  there,  Kelly !"  said  Baird,  impatiently ;  "  run  in  now 
and  shut  the  door."  She  smiled  and  nodded  her  little  head  to  me, 
and  obeyed  him. 

I  have  so  often  been  compelled  to  sleep  away  from  home  that  I 
am  somewhat  hardened.  It  is  always  a  luxury  to  stretch  myself 
upon  my  own  bed ;  but  when  I  have  to  accept  a  sleeping  place  at 
the  houses  of  my  patients,  I  am  mainly  concerned  about  the  quan 
tity  of  the  covering  and  the  cleanness  of  the  couch.  But  I  have 
always  hated  to  sleep  at  public  houses.  I  don't  know  why,  but 
the  repugnance  grows  upon  me  instead  of  diminishing.  Every 
thing  in  my  chamber  was  clean  and  comfortable  ;  but  I  sat  down, 
when  the  landlord  left  me,  and  concluded  to  wait  until  I  was  more 
drowsy.  There  was  a  fire  in  the  room,  and  a  log  or  two  of  wood 
on  the  hearth.  A  rocking-chair,  made  of  split  hickory,  stood 
in  one  corner.  It  was  rough  in  appearance,  but  decidedly  com 
fortable.  I  drew  it  up  to  the  fire-place,  put  out  my  candle,  pulled 
off  my  boots,  and  resting  my  feet  on  another  chair,  I  lighted  a 
cigar  and  waited  for  the  drowsy  god.  The  sleet  was  rattling 
against  the  window  panes,  and  I  could  hear  the  wail  of  the  wind 
sweeping  through  the  pines  near  the  house.  I  thought  of  the 


H  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

generous  young  man  who  had  voluntarily  encountered  the  fierce 
blast  and  the  pelting  of  the  storm  to  minister  to  the  wants  of  a 
poor  creature,  whose  only  claim  upon  his  sympathy  was  the  pos 
session  of  a  common  nature.  Then,  when  I  remembered  little 
Elbert,  I  wondered  that  I  had  tried  to  dissuade  him  when  he  an 
nounced  his  intention  to  go  at  once  to  the  child's  relief.  I  thought 
of  the  loneliness  of  Hawder's  house,  and  wondered  what  possible 
concatenation  of  circumstances  had  brought  the  man  there  with 
that  boy,  and  had  kept  him  there  for  some  years  isolated  from 
all  his  race.  The  man  who  brought  me  the  message  in  the  morn 
ing  was  a  chance  traveller,  who  met  the  child  on  the  bridge  near 
the  house,  and  who  found  out,  somehow,  where  Doctor  Cunning 
ham  lived. 

The  logs  fell  apart  on  the  hearth,  and  I  put  their  points  together 
again  and  thought  I  would  go  to  bed.  But  the  fire  was  still 
comfortable,  and  I  stretched  myself  out  on  the  chairs  again  and 
began  to  think  of  the  little  girl,  and  then  I  fell  asleep. 

I  dreamed  that  I  was  half  floating  and  half  swimming  in  the 
river,  and  near  the  bank  where  the  ferry  boat  had  landed  Mr.  John 
Smith.  It  was  a  very  pleasant  sensation.  The  water  seemed  to 
be  particularly  dense  or  my  body  unusually  buoyant,  as  I  floated 
without  any  effort.  Suddenly  I  saw  Baird  come  down  to  the  mar 
gin,  leading  the  child  by  the  hand.  He  waded  out  a  little  way 
and  then  threw  the  child  far  out  into  the  stream.  I  tried  to  call 
out  to  him,  but  could  not  utter  a  sound.  He  waded  back  to  the 
shore  and  walked  up  the  bank  and  out  of  sight.  I  then  struggled 
violently  to  reach  the  girl,  whose  intelligent  face  exhibited  no 
sign  of  alarm.  Her  head  was  above  the  water,  and  her  curls 
floated  away  from  her  neck  as  she  moved  with  the  current.  I 
could  not  reach  her.  The  dense  element  mocked  my  eiforts,  and 
my  strongest  exertions  appeared  to  accomplish  nothing.  Then  I 
saw  Smith  and  Hawder  come  down  to  the  water's  edge.  I  tried  to 
call  out  to  them,  but  again  I  had  no  voice.  They  looked  at  the 
girl  as  she  floated  down  the  stream,  and  Smith  appeared  to  talk 
very  composedly  about  her  situation.  He  made  no  effort  to  res 
cue  her  even  when  she  floated  near  the  bank.  Then  she  began  to 
sink,  and  she  stretched  her  hands  out  to  me,  crying,  "  Doctor ! 
doctor !"  and  I  awoke. 

I  was  in  total  darkness.  The  fire  had  gone  dead  out.  I  got  up 
and  began  to  remember  where  I  was,  when  the  voice  came  again : 

"  Doctor !  doctor !"  and  the  door-knob  rattled. 


DOCTOR  CUNNINGHAM'S  TESTIMONY.  15 

"Who's  there?"  I  said. 

"  It's  me — Baird,"  he  answered.  "  I'm  sorry  to  wake  you,  but 
my  wife  is  sick.  Woii't  you  please  come  see  her1?  I've  got  a 
light." 

I  stumbled  to  the  door  and  admitted  him.  The  dream  was  still 
upon  me,  and  I  felt  inclined  to  take  him  by  the  throat  for  the  mur 
der  of  the  child. 

"  Did  you  call  me  before  P  I  asked,  as  I  drew  on  my  boots. 

"  Yes,  sir ;  I  called  you  once  or  twice.    You  haven't  been  abed!" 

"  No,  I  fell  asleep  in  my  chair.     I  am  ready  now." 

He  preceded  me  along  the  passage,  and  opened  the  door  at 
which  the  girl  was  standing  when  I  went  to  my  chamber.  There 
was  a  little  crib  in  a  corner,  and  she  was  in  it  asleep.  Although 
I  was  now  broad  awake,  yet  somehow  the  memory  of  the  dream 
clung  to  me,  and  the  sight  of  the  child  relieved  me.  Baird's  wife 
was  lying  in  the  bed — a  gaunt,  hollow-eyed  woman,  who  looked 
anxiously  into  my  face  as  I  felt  her  pulse. 

"Am  I  going  to  die,  doctor  ?"  she  asked  in  a  husky  voice. 

"  Not  at  present.  You  need  not  think  about  dying.  I  will  tell 
you  whenever  I  think  you  are  in  danger." 

She  sunk  back  on  the  bed  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"  Where  is  your  pain  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  I  am  sick  at  the  stomach  all  the  time,  and  my  feet  are  cold ; 
and  I  feel  so  drowsy  sometimes,  that  I  fall  asleep  till  the  sickness 
wakes  me  again." 

"  What  have  you  eaten  to-day?" 

"  Oh,  nothing  to  hurt.  I  had  some  pork  steaks  for  supper,  and 
eat  purty  hearty  of  them — but  I  did'nt  feel  sick  till  I  was  in  bed." 

"  I  want  some  hot  water,  Mr.  Baird." 

"  The  fires  are  all  out,  and " 

"Well — kindle  one  somewhere  and  heat  some  water.  I  will 
prepare  some  medicine  while  you  are  gone." 

When  he  left  the  room  I  sat  down  at  a  table  and  made  up  a 
prescription.  The  woman  fell  asleep  while  I  was  thus  engaged. 
The  table  was  near  the  crib  and  I  looked  at  Nelly  again.  She 
was  sitting  up,  bolt  upright,  watching  me  with  her  round  bright 
eyes. 

"  Lie  down,  Ellen,  my  child,"  I  said  in  a  low  tone,  "  and  go  to 
sleep." 

"  I  want  my  mamma.     Can't  you  take  me  to  her  ?" 

"  Not  to-night.  Don't  you  hear  the  rain  f  Where  is  your  mam 
ma  ?" 


16  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  I  don't  know.    Don't  you  f  and  she  looked  eagerly  at  me. 

"  Is  your  mamma  named  Mrs.  Willis  f 

"  Xo  !  she  is  not  my  dear  mamma.  Oh,  I  want  her  so  bad."  I 
heard  Baird  coming  up  the  steps. 

"  Go  to  sleep  now,  my  darling,"  I  said  hurriedly ;  "  Mr.  Baird  don't 
like  you  to  talk  to  me.  I  will  take  you  to  your  mamma  if  I  can  j 
but  you  must  not  say  a  word  till  I  tell  you.  Do  you  understand  f 

"  Yes.  You  are  a  good  man  and  I  love  you  !"  she  answered  as 
she  laid  her  head  down  again.  I  believe  she  was  asleep  in  a  min 
ute.  When  Baird  came  in  I  was  at  his  wife's  bedside  again.  She 
awoke  as  he  closed  the  door.  I  administered  the  medicine.  She 
was  somewhat  relieved  when  I  left  her,  telling  Baird  I  would  see 
her  again  in  the  morning  before  I  left  the  house. 

When  I  got  back  to  my  chamber  I  threw  myself  upon  the  bed 
and  tried  to  sleep.  But  it  was  in  vain.  The  gray  dawn  came  in 
at  my  windows  before  I  closed  my  eyes.  That  child !  Could  it  be 
possible  that  any  villauy,  of  which  she  was  the  victim,  was  perpe 
trated -in  the  midst  of  a  civilized  community,  where  the  laws  were 
administered  and  their  sanctions  dreaded  ?  Besides,  what  possible 
object  could  Baird  have  in  view,  if  the  girl  was  stolen  away  from 
her  parents  ?  He  was  a  thick-skulled,  inoffensive  sort  of  man,  and 
did  not  look  like  a  rascal.  Could  I  account  for  his  evident  uneasi 
ness,  when  the  girl  was  talking  to  me,  by  accepting  his  story  of  her 
relationship  to  his  wife  and  her  illegitimate  birth  ?  He  did  not 
seem  unkind  to  her,  and  she  did  not  manifest  either  fear  or  dislike 
when  he  talked  to  her.  But  the  dream,  and  the  child's  eager  de. 
mand  to  be  taken  to  her  mother,  and  her  denial  of  Mrs.  Willis's 
right  to  that  title — all  these  tilings  confused  and  troubled  me.  As 
the  light  increased  I  grew  more  composed,  and  when  I  went  down 
to  breakfast  I  had  decided  upon  my  course.  I  only  needed  my 
wife's  approval  of  my  plans,  and  I  would  do  nothing  and  say  nothing 
until  I  saw  her  and  communicated  the  facts  in  the  case. 

Baird's  wife  was  worse.  Her  symptoms,  without  being  exactly 
alai;iniug,  were  very  annoying.  The  weather  was  less  inclement, 
and  I  ordered  my  horse,  intending  to  visit  Hawder  and  Mr.  Phil 
lips,  a  farmer  residing  at  no  great  distance  from  the  Creek  Bridge; 
and,  if  the  weather  improved,  to  return  to  Baird's  in  the  evening. 
I  did  not  see  the  child  either  in  Mrs.  Baird's  room  or  down  stairs. 
While  I  was  waiting  for  my  horse  a  stranger  came  into  the  bar 
room. 
He  was  a  tall,  muscular  man  of  about  thirty.  The  first  thing  I 


DOCTOR  CUNNINGHAM'S  TESTIMONY.  17 

noticed  about  him,  when  he  removed  his  oilskin  cap,  was  a  long 
red  scar  across  his  forehead,  about  an  inch  above  his  eyes.  I 
wondered  if  he  had  ever  been  in  a  battle  and  got  a  sabre-cut  there. 
He  wore  a  long  bushy  beard,  and  without  looking  exactly  vulgar 
h,e  had  a  flash  appearance  and  manner.  His  dress  was  made  of 
good  material,  though  somewhat  worn  and  shabby.  He  walked 
up  to  the  bar  without  noticing  me,  and  asked  for  brandy  and 
water. 

"  How  is  the filly  P  he  said  as  he  set  his  tumbler  down. 

"About  the  same,  I  reckon,"  replied  Baird  ;  "  but  my  wife  is  sick.'7 

"  Much  sick  P  asked  the  other  indifferently. 

"  Yes ;  the  doctor  there  says  she  is  party  sick,"  and  he  pointed 
over  to  the  fire-place  where  I  was  standing.  The  stranger  turned 
and  nodded  civilly  to  me. 

11  It  is  a  raw  morning,  doctor,"  he  observed.  "  I  think  last  night 
was  the  worst  night  I  ever  saw.  I  was  out  in  the  storm,  down 
there  by  the  river.  I  wanted  to  stop  at  Hawder's,  Billy" — here 
he  turned  to  Baird — u  but  he  was  sick  abed." 

"  Did  you  go  in  P  inquired  the  landlord. 

"  No  ;  the  boy  told  me  his  father  was  sick.  While  I  was  talk 
ing  to  him  at  the  door,  a  queer  looking  chap  came  out  of  the  back 
room.  He  had  his  face  tied  up  in  a  handkerchief  and  he  stuttered 
dreadfully.  But  I  managed  to  understand  that  he  was  nursing 
Hawder." 

"  What  time  o'  night  was  it  P  said  Baird. 

"  Nigh  midnight,  I  s'pose.  I  went  a  mile  up  the  road  and  got 
shelter  at  a  farm  house,  after  fighting  a  cross  dog  half  an  hour." 

The  hostler  here  put  his  head  in  at  the  door  announcing  that  my 
horse  was  ready.  I  stepped  up  to  the  bar  to  settle  for  my  enter 
tainment,  and  interrupted  a  whispered  conversation  between  the 
pair.  I  overheard  the  new  comer  say :  "  she  will  have  to  stay  a 
little  while  longer.  I'll  take  her  when  I  can  find  a  safe  place." 
It  suddenly  occurred  to  me  that  they  were  talking  of  the  child,  and 
I  waited  for  Baird's  answer,  but  only  caught  fragments  of  sentences. 
"  Nobody  to  watch  her  ;"  then  another  whisper,  and  then,  "  if  you 
can  get  Kitty  to  come  here" — "  never  mind  your  bill,  doctor  j  I'm 
afraid  you  will  have  one  against  me  bigger  than  mine."  I  had  no 
excuse  for  lingering,  so  Beppo  and  I  were  speedily  on  the  road  to 
my  home. 

When  I  related  to  my  wife  all  the  incidents  concerning  the  little 
girl,  I  could  perceive  that  her  woman's  heart  was  touched,  and 

2 


18  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

that  I  might  safely  rely  upon  her  cooperation.  My  plan  was  dis 
cussed  and  approved,  with  some  slight  modifications ;  the  changes 
being  suggested  by  her  fears  that  I  might  get  involved  in  some 
serious  trouble,  and  suffer  some  bodily  injury,  if  I  came  into  col 
lision  with  the  men  I  had  seen  in  the  morning.  But  we  agreed 
finally  that  I  should  endeavour  to  find  out  any  secret  that  might  be 
hidden  under  the  story  told  by  Baird,  and  as  I  would  undoubtedly 
be  at  the  tavern  every  day  for  a  week  or  two  to  come,  I  should 
have  an  opportunity  if  I  kept  my  eyes  open.  I  had  scarcely  a 
doubt  that  Baird's  wife  had  typhoid  fever,  and  her  symptoms  were 
on  the  whole  unfavourable.  If  I  found  in  the  afternoon  that  the 
disease  had  developed  itself  positively,  I  should  give  orders  to  re 
move  the  child's  crib  from  the  sick  room.  The  question  of  con 
tagion  is  an  open  one,  but  I  have  always  thought  it  wiser  to  use  all 
possible  precautions  to  avoid  the  risk.  I  rode  away  after  an  early 
dinner,  for  Hawder's  first,  then  for  Mr.  Phillips's,  and  finally  for 
Baird's,  where  I  would  again  remain  all  night  if  the  case  was 
urgent. 


CHAPTEE    II. 

CHILD  STEALING. 

I  FOUND  Mr.  Smith  walking  up  and  down  the  road  near  Haw 
der's,  smoking  a  cigar.  He  told  me  some  of  the  sick  man's  most 
prominent  symptoms  before  I  entered  the  house.  Little  Elbert 
was  with  his  father  when  I  went  in,  looking  fresh  and  cheerful. 
He  told  me  Mr.  Smith  came  there  "  before  he  was  sleepy,"  and  soon 
put  him  to  bed  in  the  front  room,  while  he  staid  with  his  father. 
I  thought  Hawder  would  recover,  with  patience  and  careful  nurs 
ing,  the  disease  with  him  not  having  assumed  any  of  its  alarming 
aspects.  I  have  never  been  able  to  get  rid  of  anxiety,  however, 
when  I  have  had  patients  with  "  continued  fever ;"  neither  have  I 
ever  got  my  own  consent  to  subject  any  healthy  person,  except  a 
necessary  nurse,  to  the  risk  of  contagion. 

"  It  is  my  duty  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Smith,"  I  said,  when  we  had  left 
the  sick  chamber,  "  that  you  are  incurring  more  or  less  risk  by 
attending  upon  this  man.  He  has  typhoid  fever,  and  will  require 
incessant  attention  for  two  or  three  weeks,  if  he  is  to  get  well." 

"  Pooh !  doctor,"  he  answered,  "  do  you  think  I  am  afraid  of  such 
a  bugbear  as  contagion  ?  Never  fear  for  me." 


CHILD  STEALING.  19 

"I  heard  this  morning  that  you  were  far  from  well.  You  had 
your  head  tied  up  last  night,  and  had  a  serious  impediment  in  your 
speech." 

He  laughed  uproariously,  and  little  Elbert  joined  in  the  laugh 
with  great  glee.  I  told  him  to  come  to  me  and  tell  me  all  about 
Mr.  Smith  since  he  first  came. 

"  I  gave  father  one  of  the  powders  last  night,  and  came  in  this 
room  for  some  water  for  him,  and  then  Mr.  Smith  knocked  at  the 
dcor.  He  was  all  wet  when  he  came  in,  but  he  took  off  his  coat 
and  then  he  hugged  me,  and  told  me  you  had  sent  him  to  help  me 
nurse  father.  Then  he  opened  that  black  bag  yonder,  and  got  out 
a  pair  of  little  shoes,  and  he  took  off  his  boots  and  put  the  little 
shoes  on.  Then  he  got  some  of  the  snow  off  the  window  sill  in 
the  tumbler  and  gave  father  some  with  a  spoon.  Father  said  it 
was  so  nice.  Then  he  told  me  to  go  to  sleep  there  on  them  chairs,'' 
and  he  pointed  to  an  extempore  sleeping  place  in  the  corner,  "  and 
he  told  me  to  say  my  prayers,  and  he  tucked  the  blanket  all  round 
me.  When  Mr.  Butler  was  a  knocking  he  woke  me  up.  He  told 
me  to  get  up  and  tell  Mr.  Butler — you  know,  he  has  got  a  red 
mark  on  his  face — to  tell  him  father  was  very  sick,  and  he  could 
not  stay  here.  But  Mr.  Butler  wanted  to  stay  because  it  was 
a-raining  so  hard,  and  then  Mr.  Smith  came  out  of  father's  room  with 
his  head  all  tied  up  with  a  handkerchief,  and  he  told  Mr.  Butler 
that  he  might  catch  the  sickness — but  he  talked  so  slow  and  funny ! 
So  Mr.  Butler  went  away  and  I  wTent  to  sleep  again.  This  morn 
ing  Mr.  Smith  went  into  the  river  and  washed  himself." 

"Into  the  river F 

"Yes,  sir!  he  undressed  himself  and  jumped  right  into  the 
water,  and  then  he  dressed  himself  again  out  there  in  the  cold." 

"  The  lavatory  arrangements  are  not  extensive  in  Mr.  Hawder's 
residence,  doctor,"  remarked  Mr.  Smith ;  "  but  I  prefer  the  river 
anyhow.  One  has  more  room  out  there." 

"  If  you  have  no  objection  to  tell  me,  I  should  like  to  know  why 
you  changed  your  appearance  last  night?" 

"None  in  the  world.  1  thought  I  recognized  the  voice  of  the 
visitor,  and  I  did  not  wish  to  be  recognized  in  turn.  So  I  wrapped 
my  face  up  and  put  a  couple  of  bullets  in  my  mouth.  It  would 
have  been  quite  annoying  if  he  had  insisted  on  remaining ;  but 
he  went  very  quietly  when  he  heard  there  was  some  danger  of 
contagion.  This  boy  is  a  bright  little  fellow." 

"  Yes,  I  must  manage  to  get  him  away  from  here  for  a  week  or 


20  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

two.  I  think  Hawder  may  escape  a  very  severe  illness,  but  the 
case  may  be  protracted,  and  he  must  have  a  nurse.  I  am  going 
now  to  Mr.  Phillips's,  and  think  I  can  get  a  Avoman  there  to  come 
here  for  two  weeks." 

"  I  will  pay  the  expense,  doctor,  and  I  will  also  stay  here  until 
the  man  is  better.  I  have  special  reasons  for  remaining  in  this 
neighbourhood.  Perhaps  I  may  go  back  to  Baird's  to-night  or  to 
morrow,  if  you  get  a  nurse  for  Hawder.  Where  can  you  put 
filbert*" 

"  I  want  to  stay  with  father,"  said  the  boy  earnestly. 

"  Your  father  will  get  well  sooner  if  you  are  somewhere  else, 
Elbert,"  I  said.  "  You  want  him  to  get  well  soon,  don't  you  '?" 

"  Yes,  sir !    But  I  may  come  and  see  him  ?" 

"Yes,  you  shall  come  whenever  he  is  well  enough.  I  know  you 
will  be  a  man,  and  wait  until  I  tell  you  that  you  may  come." 

"  I'll  do  whatever  father  says,"  replied  the  child ;  '•  but  I  think 
he  likes  me  to  nurse  him.  He  took  the  powder  last  night  without 
anything  to  take  the  taste  out!" 

"  Well,  he  won't  have  to  take  any  more  medicine  just  now.  I 
am  not  going  to  give  him  any  more  powders." 

"  Before  father  got  sick,"  said  Elbert,  after  meditating  a  few 
minutes,  "  he  said  I  might  go  stay  a  day  with  Johnny  Phillips. 
Mr.  Phillips  was  here  and  asked  father  to  let  me  go.  I  could 
walk  over  here  from  Mr.  Phillips's  house  ;  I  know  the  way — I've 
been  there  many  a  time." 

"Very  well.  I'll  see  Mr.  Phillips  this  morning — I  am  going 
there  now ;  and  if  he  says  so,  I'll  take  you  over  on  my  horse  to 
morrow." 

It  was  so  decided  when  I  left  Mr.  Phillips.  He  very  kindly 
offered  to  send  for  the  boy,  and  to  keep  him  until  his  father  re 
covered.  I  also  got  a  black  woman,  the  wife  of  one  of  his  farm 
hands,  to  stay  at  Hawder's  and  nurse  the  sick  man.  She  went 
there  the  same  afternoon.  I  had  several  other  patients  in  the 
neighbourhood,  and  it  was  near  nightfall  when  I  reached  Baird's. 

As  I  expected,  I  found  Mrs.  Baird  worse.  Her  symptoms  were 
more  strongly  marked  and  decided.  There  was  very  little  to  be 
done  except  to  give  directions  to  the  woman  I  found  in  her  room, 
whom  Baird  introduced  as  "  Mrs.  Willis."  I  asked  her  if  she  was 
prepared  to  stay  with  the  sick  woman  for  two  or  three  weeks. 
She  replied  in  the  affirmative,  and  I  then  endeavoured  to  explain 
to  her  the  nature  of  her  duties,  and  the  precautions  she  should 


CHILD  STEALING.  21 

observe  to  avoid  the  constant  danger  of  contracting  the  disease 
herself.  She  listened  to  me  attentively  and  promised  to  follow 
my  directions.  I  told  Baird  the  child's  crib  must  be  removed 
from  the  chamber.  He  looked  doubtfully  at  Mrs.  Willis,  who 
promptly  proposed  taking  Nelly  into  her  room. 

"  Where  is  your  room  ?"  I  said ;   "  let  me  see  it." 

"  It  is  next  to  the  one  you  slept  in  last  night,  doctor,"  replied 
Baird. 

"Very  well.  I  think  there  is  danger  of  contagion,  and  it  will 
do  no  harm  to  keep  on  the  safe  side.  No  one  ought  to  sleep  in 
this  chamber.  Mrs.  Willis  and  you  can  relieve  each  other  in 
watching  the  patient,  who  will  probably  be  worse  and  worse  for 
a  week,  or  perhaps  two,  and  who  Avill  require  attention  all  the 
time." 

"Do  you  think  she  will  die,  doctor!"  said  Baird  tremulously. 

"It  is  impossible  to  say.  She  has  typhoid  fever,  and  her 
symptoms  are  not  very  favourable.  I  hope,  however,  she  will  re 
cover.  There  is  nothing  alarming  in  the  case  at  present,  and  if 
she  is  well  nursed,  and  her  mind  composed,  she  may  be  better 
next  week." 

"  Her  mind  F  repeated  her  husband,  inquiringly. 

"  Yes.  It  is  very  important  that  her  mind  should  be  perfectly 
composed.  There  are  some  slight  appearances  of  cerebral  de 
rangement  now,  and  there  will  be  more  to-morrow." 

Baird  and  Mrs.  Willis  exchanged  a  rapid  glance.  I  caught  it 
as  I  stood  near  the  door,  for  I  was  watching  them. 

"Does  the  child's  presence  in  the  chamber  annoy  or  disturb 
your  wife1?"  I  asked.  "  I  see  she  is  not  here." 

"I  believe  it  does.  Nelly  is  in  the  kitchen.  Mrs.  Willis 

will  put  her  to  bed  in  her  room,  and  she  shall  stay  there  till 

till--." 

"Until  your  wife  is  better;  very  well.  But  Mrs.  Willis  will 
have  to  stay  in  this  room  most  of  the  night." 

"  Oh,  Nelly  sleeps  all  night.  She  is  a  good  little  gal,  and  does 
whatever  we  tell  her." 

"  Well,  you  had  better  remove  the  crib  at  once.  Take  one  end ; 
I  will  help  you."  So  saying  I  took  one  end  of  the  little  bed  and 
we  carried  it  along  the  hall  to  the  room  he  had  designated.  As 
we  set  the  crib  down  in  a  corner  I  glanced  around  the  room.  It 
was  similar  in  every  respect  to  the  one  I  had  occupied  on  the 
previous  night.  Two  windows  looking  out  upon  the  pines  and  a 
door  communicating  with  the  hall. 


22  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"I  shall  remain  here  to-night.  I  suppose  I  occupy  the  same 
room  again  ?"  I  said,  as  we  walked  down  stairs. 

"  Yes,  sir.  There's  a  lot  of  drovers  ill  the  bar  room  who  will 
stay  here  to-night,  but  I'll  put  'em  all  in  the  back  building.  I 
s'pose  I  needn't  tell  'em  there's  a  catching  sickness  in  the  house  f ' 

"  It  is  not  necessary.  You  may  caution  them  to  keep  quiet,  as 
your  wife  will  be  disturbed  if  they  are  noisy." 

We  went  down  stairs,  and  I  returned  to  the  sick  room  after 
supper.  Mrs.  Baird  was  sleeping  fitfully  and  muttering  incoherent 
sentences.  I  tried  to  listen,  but  it  always  happened  that  Mrs. 
Willis  spoke  to  me  before  I  could  catch  more  than  a  word  or  two. 
Once  I  heard  her  say  "  that  child !"  I  was  careful  to  manifest  no 
interest,  as  part  of  my  plan  was  to  appear  indifferent  to  every 
thing  relating  to  the  little  girl.  It  was  my  duty  to  remove  her 
from  the  sick  chamber  on  the  patient's  account,  and  I  excited  no 
suspicions  when  I  ordered  this  change.  I  could  find  no  fault  in 
the  matter  or  manner  of  Mrs.  Willis's  frequent  interruptions.  She 
always  managed  to  attract  my  attention,  and  always  made  some 
appropriate  remark,  or  asked  some  appropriate  question.  I  began 
to  conclude  that  she  was  very  nearly  a  match  for  me  in  the  game 
we  were  playing.  I  could  not  decide  whether  she  was  merely 
watching  against  any  possible  revelations  the  sick  woman  should 
make,  or  whether  she  suspected  me  of  an  undue  interest  in  the 
child. 

For  two  or  three  nights  I  was  at  the  inn  until  bed-time,  watch 
ing  the  progress  of  the  case,  as  the  more  unfavourable  symptoms 
began  to  appear.  I  had  but  little  hope  of  Mrs.  Baird's  recovery 
from  the  first ;  and  during  the  second  week,  when  she  began  to 
exhibit  those  manifestations  which  a  medical  practitioner  so 
quickly  recognizes  as  the  precursors  of  death,  I  intimated  to  Baird 
that  he  would  probably  soon  be  a  widower. 

At  last  the  climax  arrived.  It  was  on  Saturday,  and  the  night 
was  clear  and  cold.  I  had  ordered  the  man  in  charge  of  the 
stable  to  put  my  horse  away  for  the  night,  and  when  I  entered 
the  bar  room  I  saw  Mr.  Smith  sitting  by  the  open  fire-place,  astride 
of  his  chair,  with  his  face  resting  on  his  arms,  which  in  turn 
rested  upon  the  back  of  the  chair.  I  recognized  him  by  the  out 
lines  of  his  handsome  person  and  by  his  homespun  dress,  and  by 
the  slouched  hat  which  concealed  his  features.  The  disagreeable 
looking  man,  Butler,  was  leaning  idly  against  the  counter,  and 
looking  with  a  puzzled  expression  at  the  stalwart  form  of  the  only 


CHILD  STEALING.  23 

other  occupant  of  tli3  apartment.  Butler  nodded  to  me  as  I 
entered,  with  a  "Good  evening,  doctor."  I  walked  up  to  the 
fire  5  Smith  was  breathing  deeply  and.  apparently  in  a  sound 
sleep. 

"That  chap's  doing  a  good  deal  of  sleeping,  doctor,"  said 
Butler.  "I've  hollered  loud  enough  to  wake  a  dead  man,  but  he 
hasn't  stirred  for  half  an  hour." 

"Better  let  him  have  his  nap  out,"  I  answered  carelessly. 
"  Have  you  heard  how  Mrs.  Baird  is  P 

"  No,  sir.  Baird  is  in  the  kitchen,  I  believe.  I'll  call  him." 
So  saying,  he  left  the  bar  room. 

"And  I'll  go  to  bed,"  said  Smith,  quietly  raising  his  head. 
"  Good  evening,  doctor.  Mr.  Butler  is  so  noisy  a  companion  that 
I  will  take  advantage  of  the  present  opportunity  and  get  rid  of 
him  for  the  night.  I  will  see  you  in  the  morning,  I  suppose  ?  I 
think  I  overheard  you  tell  the  hostler  you  would  remain  here  to 
night  !" 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  "I  shall  stay  to-night.  Are  you  off?  Good 
night ;"  and  he  passed  into  the  hall  leading  to  the  chambers  as 
Butler  re-entered  the  room,  accompanied  by  the  landlord. 

If  this  was  the  proper  place,  I  should  like  to  record  my  opinion 
of  the  course,  crises  and  termination  of  the  disease  kuown  as 
continued  fever.  Mrs.  Baird's  case  was  an  exceptional  one.  The 
symptoms  and  the  course  of  the  disease  up  to  this  Saturday  night 
were  identical  with  nearly  all  the  cases  I  have  attended.  I  had 
concluded,  when  I  visited  her  on  the  previous  evening,  that  she 
would  die  within  the  next  twenty-four  hours,  but  had  decided  to 
pass  the  next  night  in  attendance  upon  the  case  if  she  were,  still 
alive.  I  also  thought,  if  she  should  die  in  the  course  of  the  night, 
I  might  have  the  opportunity  for  which  I  had  long  waited — to 
converse  a  little  with  Nelly.  I  had  had  occasional  brief  glimpses 
of  the  bright-eyed  little  girl,  who  had  always  looked  cheerful  and 
particularly  knowing  as  she  nodded  her  pretty  head  to  me  in 
passing. 

There  was  no  perceptible  change  in  the  condition  of  the  patient. 
I  could  detect  no  difference  in  her  pulses  or  in  the  general  symptoms. 
She  was  sleeping,  looking  gaunt  and  cadaverous,  but  she  had  pre 
sented  the  same  appearance  from  the  first.  It  was  near  midnight 
when  I  left  the  sick  room,  directing  Mrs.  Willis  to  call  me  if  there 
should  be  any  necessity  for  iny  presence,  and  also  recommending 
her  to  remain  by  the  bedside  for  the  next  hour  or  two.  I  then 


24  THE   LACY  DIAMONDS. 

walked  swiftly  and  quietly  along  the  passage  leading  to  my 
sleeping  apartment  and  tried  the  door  of  the  child's  room.  It  was 
locked.  Without  pausing,  I  passed  into  my  own  chamber,  and 
drawing  a  chair  to  the  fire-place  I  sat  down  to  think. 

It  was  probable  that  I  should  have  an  hour  or  more  at  my  dis 
posal,  and  the  first  thing  to  be  done  was  to  gain  an  entrance  into 
Nelly's  room.  There  was  no  key  on  the  outside  of  the  door,  and  I 
inferred  that  it  was  reposing  in  Mrs.  Willis's  pocket.  Perhaps  the 
key  of  my  door  would  unlock  Nelly's.  I  decided  to  try  it,  and  was 
about  to  re-enter  the  passage,  when  I  thought  I  heard  some  one 
step  across  the  floor  of  the  little  girl's  room.  I  drew  back,  and 
leaning  against  the  thin  partition,  I  hastily  concocted  an  answer, 
if  it  should  happen  that  I  found  any  one  older  than  Nelly  in  the 
chamber,  to  inquire  into  my  motives  for  paying  her  so  unseason 
able  a  visit.  Then  I  very  plainly  heard  Nelly's  voice  raised  a 
little  above  a  whisper.  I  listened  intently,  but  could  distinguish 
no  words.  After  a  moment's  silence  I  heard  a  step  again  and  the 
creak  of  a  boot.  It  was  undoubtedly  a  man's  footfall,  and  he  was 
walking  with  great  care.  Matters  were  getting  complicated,  and 
I  aat  down  once  more. 

Who  could  be  in  the  room  ?  Butler,  of  course !  How  did  ho 
get  there?  What  devil's  work  was  he  doing"?  And,  hardest 
question  of  all,  what  was  my  duty  I  I  don't  know  how  long  these 
perplexing  questions  chased  each  other  through  my  troubled  brain, 
or  what  rash  conclusion  I  should  have  reached  if  I  had  not  been 
suddenly  aroused  by  Mrs.  Willis's  voice  at  my  door : 

"  Doctor,  come  quickly,  please !"  she  said  j  "  I  believe  she  is 
going !" 

This  abrupt  summons  effectually  dispelled  all  my  doubts  for  the 
present.  I  had  just  time  to  congratulate  myself  upon  my  good 
fortune.  If  Mrs.  Willis  had  found  me  trying  the  lock  of  my  little 
neighbour's  door,  I  should  have  had  all  my  well  laid  plans  frustrated 
at  once  and  forever.  Mrs.  Baird's  case  was  urgent — Nelly's  could 
wait. 

There  was  nothing  peculiarly  alarming  about  Mrs.  Baird.  She 
was  more  restless  and  flighty,  occasionally  muttering  some  inco 
herent  sentences,  but  I  fancied  that  her  pulse  was  better  than 
when  I  saw  her  earlier  in  the  night.  Her  attendant  looked  pale 
and  careworn,  and  somewhat  awe-stricken  as  she  stood  at  the  foot 
of  the  bed.  Baird  was  sitting  in  the  corner,  looking  glum  and 

«giy. 


CHILD   STEALING.  25 

"  She's  quieter  now,  sir,"  observed  Mrs.  Willis,  "  but  she  has 
been  going  on  awful." 

"  What  .has  she  been  doing  F 

"  She  has  been  talking  kind  of  wild  like." 

,  "  I  want  the  gal!"  said  the  sick  woman  distinctly;  " I  want  to 
see  the  gal !  I  tell  you  she  is " 

"There,  there!"  said  Mrs.  Willis;  "  don't  go  on  so.  I'll  bring 
her  to  you  if  you  want  her." 

"  Give  me  some  water,"  answered  Mrs.  Baird.  I  put  a  spoonful 
of  wine  in  the  tumbler  before  she  took  it.  I  walked  over  to  the 
corner  where  Baird  was  seated,  and  the  fellow  looked  as  though 
he  expected  me  to  decapitate  him  on  the  spot. 

"  Your  wife  is  not  so  ill,  after  all,"  I  said ;  "  she  may  even  re 
cover  if  her  mind  is  undisturbed." 

"  She  has  been  calling  for  Nelly,  sir,"  replied  he,  starting  up, 
"  and  if  you  say  so,  I'll  bring  her  in  here.  1  think  she  misses  the 
child ;  she  used  to  sleep  in  the  little  crib  over  yonder,  and  she 
misses  her." 

"  Not  at  present,"  I  said,  as  he  moved  towards  the  door ;  "  if 
she  asks  for  her  when  she  wakens,  you  may  bring  her  in." 

She  slept  for  more  than  half  an  hour,  probably  forty  or  fifty 
minutes,  and  when  she  awoke  she  looked  steadily  at  me  for  a 
moment,  as  if  trying  to  recognize  me. 

"  How  do  you  feel,  Mrs.  Baird  F 

"  I  think  I'm  better  doctor ;  I've  had  a  good  long  sleep.  May 
they  bring  little  Nelly  in  to  see  me  F 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Willis  will  bring  her,"  and  in  obedience  to  my  look 
she  left  the  room.  I  heard  her  walk  along  the  corridor ;  heard 
the  rattle  of  the  key  as  she  put  it  into  the  lock ;  heard  the  snap  of 
the  bolt  as  it  shot  back,  and  then  I  heard  her  walking  swiftly 
back ;  she  pushed  the  door  open  and,  standing  on  the  threshold, 
beckoned  me  out. 

"  The  child  is  gone !"  I  caught  her  arm  as  she  tottered  away 
from  the  sick  chamber,  and  taking  the  candle  from  her  shaking- 
hand,  I  went  to  Nelly's  room,  Mrs.  Willis  following  me  mechani 
cally.  The  chamber  was  empty.  The  little  crib  in  the  corner  had 
been  occupied,  the  bed  clothing  was  turned  down,  and  the  im 
pression  of  little  Nelly's  head  was  plain  on  the  pillow. 

"  I  locked  the  door  after  she  was  asleep,  and  have  had  the  key 
in  my  pocket  ever  since,"  said  Mrs.  Willis.  "  Her  clothes  were  on 
the  chair  there  by  the  crib ;  they  are  gone.  I  remember  putting 
her  shoes  on  the  chair " 


26  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"Where  is  Butler1?"  said  I,  interrupting  her. 

She  looked  at  me  with  a  half  scared  expression,  but  made  no 
reply. 

"  I  do  not  doubt,"  I  continued,  "  that  Butler  has  carried  the 
child  away,  and  probably  by  your  connivance.  If  my  suspicions 
are  not  entirely  unfounded,  you  two  have  committed  an  enormous 
crime,  of  which  this  child  is  the  victim,  and  I  swear  to  you  that  I 
am  resolved  to  ferret  this  mystery  out.  If  you  will  tell  me  all  of 
the  matter,  truthfully  and  unreservedly,  I  will  befriend  you  as  far 
as  I  may  be  able  to  do  so.  I  am  willing  to  believe  that  you  have 
been  misled  by  a  worse  criminal,  and  it  may  be  possible  to  save 
you  from  any  worse  punishment  than  the  gnawiugs  of  your  own 
conscience." 

"  You  are  partly  right  and  partly  wrong,  doctor,"  replied  the 
woman  after  a  pause.  "  Before  I  called  you  to-night,  I  saw  But 
ler  go  into  his  room  down  stairs  too  drunk  to  do  more  than  fall 
upon  his  bed.  If  you  don't  believe  me,"  she  added,  in  answer  to 
my  incredulous  look,  "  step  down  stairs  now,  you  will  find  him  in 
the  little  room  behind  the  bar." 

I  took  the  candle,  and  leaving  her  in  the  chamber,  I  went 
down  stairs,  wondering  if  this  could  be  true.  I  heard  the  man's 
stertorous  breathing  before  I  opened  his  door.  There  he  was, 
doubled  up  upon  the  bed,  with  swollen  features  and  such  marks 
of  helpless  intoxication  about  him  as  could  not  be  simulated.  I 
was  only  a  minute  absent,  and  found  Mrs.  Willis  where  I  left  her. 

"I  think  I  know  what  has  become  of  the  child,"  she  said, 
"  and,  God  knows,  I  am  only  glad  she  is  gone.  If  you  want  to  hear 
a  long  story,  I  will  tell  you  every  word  of  it.  If  you  can  quiet 
Mrs.  Baird  and  send  her  husband  to  bed,  I  will  tell  you  to-night." 

The  crisis  of  Mrs.  Baird's  case  was  passed.  She  was  sleeping 
quietly  when  we  returned.  I  advised  the  landlord  to  leave  the 
patient  with  us,  telling  him  that  all  her  symptoms  were  favourable. 
I  may  say  here  that  she  recovered  her  usual  health,  and  seemed 
to  mend  more  rapidly  after  she  was  made  to  understand  that  the 
little  girl  was  in  safe  hands.  I  sat  down  near  her  bed,  placing  the 
light  on  the  hearth,  and  Mrs.  Willis  commenced  her  story. 


MRS.   WILLIS'S  CONFESSION.  27 

CHAPTEE    III. 
MRS.  WILLIS'S  CONFESSION. 

I  AM  an  English  woman.  I  was  born  in  Devonshire.  I  am  not 
going  to  tire  you  with  a  long  account  of  myself,  but  some  things 
I  am  obliged  to  tell  you,  as  you  would  not  otherwise  understand  a 
great  deal  of  the  story  I  have  to  relate.  I  know  that  you  will  be 
most  interested  in  that  part  of  it  which  includes  the  child's  his 
tory,  but  I  must  tell  it  in  my  own  way. 

Lady  Lacy  was  very  frequeiitty  in  the  village  in  which  I  was 
born.  It  is  called  Laviugton,  and  belongs  to  a  barony  of  the  same 
name.  The  Lacys  had  once  owned  large  estates  adjoining  the 
lands  of  Laviugton,  but  the  family  had  been  unlucky  for  two 
or  three  generations,  and  Sir  John  Lacy  inherited  only  the  old 
house  and  park,  and  I  think  there  were  some  mortgages  on  this 
small  remnant  of  the  old  estate  when  he  took  possession.  I  don't 
know  how  he  managed  to  get  his  wife,  who  was  the  only  daughter 
of  Lord  Morton,  of  Lavington,  and  who  brought  him  enough  money 
to  pay  off  all  the  debts  on  his  estate,  and  more  besides.  He  was 
a  careless,  good  sort  of  a  man,  of  whom  I  never  heard  much  good 
or  bad,  and  I  suppose  he  attracted  more  attention  because  he  was 
the  representative  of  the  old  Lacys  than  from  any  other  cause. 
All  that  I  have  to  tell  you  about  him  is,  that  he  was  killed  by  a 
fall  from  his  horse  a  year  after  his  marriage,  leaving  his  young 
wife  with  a  little  baby  girl,  just  born.  This  happened  just  seven 
years  ago. 

Lady  Lacy  remained  in  the  old  house,  though  it  might  be  called 
a  new  house  then,  as  Sir  John  had  repaired  it  very  thoroughly 
before  he  took  his  bride  into  it.  It  was  called  the  Red  Hall,  not 
on  account  of  its  color,  for  it  was  built  of  gray  stone,  but  on  ac 
count  of  some  bloody  legend  that  belonged  to  the  family.  I  don't 
know  rightly  what  the  legend  was,  but  I  remember  some  poetry 
referring  to  it,  which  predicts  the  early  death  of  the  head  of  the 
house.  No,  sir,  I  don't  remember  the  lines  exactly.  Maybe  they 
will  come  back  to  me  before  I  finish  the  story.  I  know  that  I 
heard  people  repeating  the  poetry  when  Sir  John  was  killed,  and 
the  villagers  seemed  to  consider  his  death  as  the  only  sort  of  death 
that  a  Lacy  of  the  Eed  Hall  could  die.  I  wish  I  could  remember 
the  poetry. 


28  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

Maybe  I  ought  to  mention  here  that  Sir  John  was  the  second  son 
of  the  former  baronet.  Before  he  died — that  is.  Sir  Elbert,  Sir 
John's  father — he  had  quarrelled  with  his  old  er  son,  a  boy  less  than 
ten  years  old,  and  at  the  end  of  the  quarrel  the  boy  left  his  father's 
house  and  never  returned.  It  was  said  that  he  ran  away  and 
came  to  this  country  and  died  here.  I  was  a  little  girl  then,  but  I 
can  recollect  Sir  Elbert  and  his  remaining  son  going  into  deep 
mourning.  I  am  telling  you  all  this  to  give  you  some  idea  of  this 
queer  family.  There  has  always  been  some  kind  of  a  curse  follow 
ing  them,  that  is  certain. 

Very  soon  after  Sir  John's  death  I  went  to  the  Hall  to  nurse 
little  Ellen.  Yes,  sir,  the  little  girl  who  has  been  stolen  away  from 
this  house  to-night. 

I  don't  understand  the  laws,  and  don't  know  anything  about 
Sir  John's  estate.  Lady  Lacy  had  plenty  of  money  in  her  own 
right;  but  I  have  heard  the  neighbours  speak  of  the  Eed  Hall  going 
to  some  male  heir  of  the  Lacys,  who,  however,  never  came  to 
claim  it.  There  was  one  gentleman,  Mr.  Lacy  Barston,  who  lived 
in  the  neighbourhood,  and  who  was  a  relation  of  Sir  John's,  and  it 
was  said  that  the  lawyers  thought  he  was  the  rightful  heir  to  the 
Red  Hall  and  Park.  But  he  always  denied  it  himself,  which  was 
curious,  as  he  and  Lady  Lacy  disliked  each  other  excessively.  He 
was  never  at  the  Hall  after  Sir  John  married,  though  he  was  his 
sworn  friend  before,  and  people  said  he  never  went  anywhere  else 
where  he  was  likely  to  meet  the  baronet  or  his  wife.  All  the  while 
I  was  at  the  Hall  I  never  heard  my  lady  mention  his  name.  There 
was  some  secret  cause  for  this  mutual  dislike  which  I  tried  to  find 
out  a  hundred  times,  but  never  could.  Yes,  sir.  He  was  undoubt 
edly  a  gentleman  who  stood  high  in  everybody's  opinion  except 
my  lady's.  He  was  a  sort  of  a  lawyer,  at  least  he  had  been  edu 
cated  for  the  bar,  but  he  spent  most  of  his  time  in  travelling, 
sometimes  on  the  continent,  and  sometimes  to  outlandish  places 
that  nobody  ever  heard  of  before.  I  have  known  him  to  go  off  on 
one  of  his  long  trips — maybe  to  South  America,  maybe  to  China — 
and  be  gone  for  a  year  or  two,  and  then  quietly  come  back  when 
nobody  was  expecting  him.  No,  sir.  He  had  no  relations  that  I 
know  of  nearer  than  Sir  John. 

I  don't  know  why  I  have  told  you  all  this  about  Mr.  Barston. 
Although  he  was  never  at  the  Eed  Hall,  he  was  everywhere  else. 
I  can't  say  that  I  disliked  him,  though  I  always  felt  uncomfortable 
when  he  was  nea'r  me.  I  could  not  help  thinking  that  he  knew 


MRS.   WILLIS'S  CONFESSION.  29 

exactly  what  I  was  thinking  about,  and  then  I  was  always  sure 
to  think  of  things  that  I  did  not  want  him  to  know  when  he  was 
in  the  same  room.  It  was  when  I  was  out  with  the  child  that 
1  would  see  him.  Sometimes,  when  I  would  be  driving  out  (for  my 
lady  frequently  sent  me  with  Ellen  when  she  was  not  disposed  to 
drive  herself),  Mr.  Barston  would  come  galloping  up  after  the  car 
riage,  and  take  the  child  before  him  on  his  horse,  and  gallop  off 
with  her.  He  seemed  to  be  very  fond  of  her,  and  she  loved  him 
better  than  anybody  in  the  world,  except  her  mother. 

After  Sir  John's  funeral  was  over,  Mr.  Barston  came  home.  He 
had  been  absent  nearly  a  year,  but  it  seemed  that  he  was  now  going 
to  settle  down.  The  old  place,  Oakland,  where  he  lived,  was  re 
paired,  and  he  rode  over  to  the  village  one  day  to  offer  me  the 
place  of  housekeeper.  It  was  after  I  had  agreed  to  go  to  the  Red 
Hall,  and*I  could  not  have  accepted  his  offer  if  I  had  fancied  the 
place.  He  persisted  in  his  arguments  when  I  told  him  I  was  en 
gaged  to  my  lady,  and  offered  me  "  any  wages  I  wanted."  I  sup 
pose  he  was  more  anxious  to  get  me,  because  he  thought  my  lady 
would  be  disappointed.  Once,  when  he  met  the  carriage,  he  re 
newed  the  offer,  asking  me  when  my  engagement  would  be  at  an  end 
at  the  Hall,  but  I  then  told  him  plainly  that  I  did  not  wish  to 
make  the  change.  My  husband  was  courting  me  then,  and  he 
hated  Mr.  Barston  so  thoroughly,  that  I  had  learned  to  dislike  him 
too.  No,  sir.  He  was  not  a  drinking  man  then  ;  he  has  learned 
to  make  a  beast  of  himself  in  this  country.  No,  sir.  His  name  is 
not  Willis.  His  name  is  of  no  consequence.  It  is  like  enough 
that  Mr.  Barston  had  caught  him  in  some  improper  conduct — poach 
ing,  maybe.  I  remember  one  time,  as  he  was  handing  the  child 
back  to  me  after  one  of  his  gallops,  he  said,  "  Kitty,  I  wish  you 
would  quit  keeping  company  with  that  fellow.  He  is  not  good 
enough  for  you,  or  for  any  other  decent  girl."  I  asked  him  what 
he  had  to  say  against  him,  and  he  answered,  "  He  is  a  brute,  and 
has  only  a  brute's  instincts;  but  you  won't  be  advised  by  me.  I 
see  it  in  your  face."  And  so  he  rode  off.  Heigho ! 

My  husband — I  was  not  married  then — had  been  gamekeeper  for 
Lord  Morton.  I  never  knew  exactly  why  he  left  Lavington,  though 
I  know  he  left  in  disgrace.  He  blamed  Mr.  Barston  for  interfer 
ing,  as  I  found  out  from  things  he  would  let  drop  when  speaking 
of  him ;  and  it  is  very  probable  that  Mr.  Barston,  who  was  fre 
quently  at  Lavington,  had  given  my  husband  a  bad  word  when 
ever  he  had  the  chance.  During  Sir  John's  lifetime  there  was 


30  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

some  hard  quarrel  between  him  and  Mr.  Barston,  which  my  hus 
band  helped  to  aggravate  in  some  way.  He  never  told  me  the 
particulars.  I  only  know  that  he  had  kept  them  apart  a  long-  time 
after  they  were  willing  to  be  friends  again.  I  just  remember  the 
lines  I  spoke  of,  and  may  as  well  repeat  them  before  I  forget  them 
again.  I  never  could  see  any  sense  in  them  myself. 

"  A  score  and  a  half  score  lie  ne'er  shall  attain, 
Who  holds  the  Red  Hall  and  the  Lacy's  proud  name " 

I  have  forgotten  it  again.  It  is  something  about  bloody  jewels, 
but  the  principal  thing  is  the  prophecy  that  no  Lacy  should  live 
thirty  years,  and  they  do  say  that  they  have  always  died  young, 
and  always  by  some  violent  death.  There  is  something  in  the 
poetry  about  "  kinsman's  blood ;"  maybe  I'll  remember  it  all  before 
I  finish  my  story.  Sir  Elbert  was  found  dead  in  his  bed  the  day 
before  his  birthday,  when  he  would  have  been  thirty.  There  were 
marks  of  violence,  I  have  heard,  but  no  one  ever  knew  who  killed 
him.  He  was  married  very  young — had  married  against  the 
wishes  of  his  relations  and  friends,  and  both  his  sons  were  born 
before  he  was  of  age.  His  wife  died  when  Sir  John  was  born. 

My  husband — yes,  sir,  certainly.  We  were  married  in  Scotland, 
by  Scottish  law,  as  you  will  hear  presently.  I  was  going  to  say 
that  my  husband  has  always  hated  all  the  Lacys  and  all  belong 
ing  to  them.  I  really  don't  know  what  reason  he  has,  but  I  am 
certain  of  the  fact. 

You  want  to  know  about  my  marriage  ?  Well,  sir,  we  were  in 
Scotland.  My  lady  and  her  bosom  friend,  Miss  Clare  Tamworth, 
had  a  cottage  near  Stirling.  One  day,  when  I  was  driving  with 
Ellen,  Mr.  Barston  came  galloping  after  the  carriage.  He  had 
been  away  a  year  or  two,  but  the  child  remembered  him,  and 
clamoured  for  him  to  take  her  on  his  horse.  I  cannot  understand 
why  my  lady  allowed  it.  She  always  knew  it,  for  the  child  always 
told  her.  Ko,  sir ;  she  never  mentioned  Mr.  Lacy  Barston's  name 
to  me,  or  to  any  one  else,  so  far  as  I  know.  But  she  might  easily 
have  told  me  to  keep  Ellen  in  the  carriage  if  she  objected  to  her 
gallops  with  Mr.  Barston,.  However,  he  told  me  that  day  to  meet 
him  at  the  same  place  an  hour  later,  and  rode  off  with  the  child. 
I  had  to  go  to  Stirling  to  get  a  brooch  which  my  "lady  had  left  at 

a  jeweller's  to  be  repaired,  and  while  I  was  in  the  shop  Mr. , 

my  husband,  came  in.  He  was  dressed  like  a  gentleman.  I  had 
left  him  at  Laviugton  a  month  before,  and  had  received  two  or 
three  letters  from  him,  but  did  not  expect  him.  The  coachman 


MRS.   WILLIS'S  CONFESSION.  31 

bad  taken  the  carriage  somewhere  to  get  a  bolt  replaced  that  had 

been  lost,  and ,  iny  husband,  told  me  he  had  come  to  marry 

me,  and  had  arranged  everything  for  the  ceremony  in  a  neigh 
bouring  street.  I  was  easily  persuaded,  for  I  loved  him.  When 
We  reached  the  place — I  think  it  was  a  magistrate's  office — he  told 
me  I  must  answer  to  the  name  the  man  asked,  and  to  write  it  in  a 
book.  I  don't  see  why  you  should  insist  on  knowing  the  name, 
but  it  makes  no  difference  over  here.  It  was  Clare  Tamworth. 
Yes,  sir,  he  did  sign  his  real  name.  I  shall  not  tell  you  what  name 
he  signed.  The  marriage  was  legal.  I  asked  a  lawyer,  who  cer 
tainly  knew  all  about  it,  and  I  have  the  certificate.  After  we 
were  married  he  walked  back  to  the  jeweller's  and  left  me  there, 
bidding  me  keep  the  marriage  secret  until  he  gave  me  leave  to 
tell.  I  did  not  see  him  again  or  hear  from  him  until  a  month 
later. 

My  story  is  almost  done,  sir.  Last  summer  we  went  to  Clifton, 
where  Miss  Tamworth  lived.  I  used  to  take  Nellie  out  on  the 
Downs  every  fine  day  between  luncheon  time  and  dinner.  Some 
times  my  lady  and  Miss  Tamworth  would  be  with  us,  and  some 
times  we  would  be  alone.  One  day  Nellie  and  I  wandered  down 
to  the  bank  of  the  river — the  Avon.  A  large  ship  was  going 
down  the  river  from  Bristol — going  out  to  sea.  The  tide  was 
rising,  but  was  not  high  enough,  and  the  vessel  came  close  to  the 
bank  and  got  aground.  There  was  a  great  deal  of  confusion  on 
board.  Some  sailors  got  into  a  boat  and  brought  a  rope  ashore 
to  fasten  the  ship  until  the  tide  was  high  enough  to  float  her  off. 
While  I  was  watching  the  sailors  a  gentleman  clambered  over  the 
side  of  the  ship  and  leaped  down  on  the  shore.  It  was  my  hus 
band. 

"  Kitty,  my  dear,"  he  said,  "  I've  come  for  you.  I  was  going  to 
walk  over  from  Bristol,  but  the  ship  sailed  twelve  hours  before  the 
appointed  time.  The  captain  suddenly  decided  to  go  out  on  this 
tide,  and  I  should  have  missed  you  if  we  had  not  got  aground." 

I  was  very  much  bewildered.  I  was  glad  to  see  him,  of  course, 
and  I  was  only  too  happy  in  the  prospect  of  going  away  with  him. 

"  I'll  take  Nelly  home,  then " 

"That  is  impossible,"  he  answered;  "the  ship  will  be  afloat 
before  you  could  get  up  the  bank.  Bring  her  with  you.  We  can 
send  her  home  by  the  pilot  boat.  Nellie,  do  you  want  to  go  on  the 
big  ship  P 

"  Yes,  yes !"  replied  the  child  eagerly ;  and  before  I  could  offer 


32  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

an  objection  he  took  her  in  his  arms  and  stepped  in  the  little  boat. 
I  followed,  hardly  knowing  what  I  was  doing,  and  in  a  few  min 
utes  we  were  climbing  over  the  side  of  the  vessel. 

"  I  have  no  clothes,"  I  whispered,  as  he  drew  my  arm  through 
his;  " and  I  cannot  possibly  go  in  this  way- " 

"  Pooh,  pooh !  I've  a  trunk  full  of  dresses  in  the  cabin — a  regu 
lar  outfit.  This  is  the  lady,  captain — Mrs.  Butler " 

"  And  daughter?"  replied  the  captain,  touching  his  cap  to  me. 
"  You  did  not  mention  the  child,  Mr.  Butler." 

"Didn't  I  ?  I  forgot  it,  I  suppose.  Come  on,  my  dear;  I  will 
show  you  the  cabin,"  and  we  went  down  stairs. 

All  this  occurred  more  rapidly  than  I  can  tell  you,  and  I  did  not 
exactly  know  what  I  was  doing  until  we  were  all  in  our  state 
room.  While  Nellie  was  engrossed  with  the  strange  sights 
around  her,  my  husband  endeavoured  to  pacify  me  with  his  expla 
nations.  He  said  he  had  been  several  weeks  in  Bristol,  had  taken 
passage  in  this  ship  for  himself  and  wife,  had  bought  uiny  outfit," 
as  he  called  it,  and  was  coming  to  Clifton  for  me  that  evening. 
When  he  found  the  ship  was  actually  going  in  the  afternoon,  instead 
of  the  next  morning,  he  made  up  his  mind  to  go  in  her,  and  write 
for  me  from  America.  He  said  "  a  good  Providence  "  had  run  the 
ship  aground  just  at  that  spot.  I  thought  so  too,  then,  but  now  I 
think  it  was  a  bad  devil ! 

The  ship  was  soon  moving.  A  little  tug  towed  her  down  the 
long  river  very  slowly,  because  the  tide  was  coming  in  so  strongly, 
and  it  was  dark  before  we  were  in  the  channel.  The  child  went 
to  sleep,  and  I  laid  her  in  one  of  the  berths.  It  was  almost  mid 
night  when  the  pilot  went  off  in  the  tug.  I  could  not  send  Nellie — 
I  could  not  bear  to  do  it;  so  my  husband  bade  me  "write  a  letter  to 
my  lady  which  he  sent  by  the  pilot. 

The  next  morning  we  were  at  sea.  I  have  never  known  a  happy 
hour  since  that  day.  Nellie  was  told — I  told  her,  that  the  ship  had 
sailed  away  with  us  while  she  was  asleep,  and  that  she  must  call 
me  "mother"  and  Mr.  Butler  "papa"  while  we  were  aboard,  and 
that  we  would  take  her  home  whenever  we  could  "  get  the  ship  to 
turn  round."  We  told  her  she  must  not  say  anything  to  the  cap 
tain  about  her  real  mother,  for  fear  he  would  not  take  us  back. 
She  is  a  wonderfully  old  child,  and  she  obeyed  me  implicitly.  She 
was  not  much  distressed,  and  if  she  had  not  cried  for  her  mother 
sometimes  in  the  night  I  would  not  have  been  so  miserable.  We 
reached  New  York  in  twelve  days  and  came  directly  here.  My 


JOHN  HAWDERS  STORY.  33 

husband  has  been  getting  drunk  nearly  every  day  since  we  came. 
We  have  a  house  not  very  far  from  Hawder's.  No,  sir !  I  dare 
not  tell  you  my  husband's  name;  he  would  kill  me!  I  have  not 
dared  to  write  to  my  lady  since  we  landed,  but  I  have  made  many 
plans  to  get  away  with  Nellie  and  get  back  to  England.  I  am  cer 
tain  my  husband  did  not  intend  to  bring  her  away,  and  he  sol 
cm nly  swore  to  me  only  yesterday  that  he  would  take  me  and 
her  back  as  soon  as  the  spring  opens.  If  he  would  only  leave  off 
drinking  I  believe  he  would  do  it.  He  has  no  business,  sir.  I 
don't  know  where  he  gets  his  money.  Mrs.  Baird  is  awake. 


CHAPTER  IV. 
JOHN  HAWDER'S  STORY. 

I  DON'T  think  talking  hurts  me  a  bit,  doctor.  You  have 
pulled  me  through  this  bout  so  fast  that  I  feel  quite  well 
enough  to  go  out  if  you  would  allow  me ;  but  if  you  won't,  you 
can  let  me  sit  up  here  in  the  blessed  sunlight  at  least.  English? 
Yes,  sir !  Devonshire,  too,  the  garden  spot  of  the  world !  The 
Lacys  ?  oh,  yes,  I  have  known  them  all  my  life.  They  are  a  queer 
lot,  but  I  can't  say  they  are  altogether  bad — leastways  not  all  of 
them.  Sir  Elbert  was  a  real  gentleman,  though  he  was  head 
strong  and  violent.  He  was  always  very  kind  to  me,  and  was 
godfather  to  my  poor  brother,  who  is  now  in  heaven,  and  I  called 
my  boy  after  him.  My  father  was  Sir  Elbert's  steward,  and  his 
oldest  son,  Master  Elbert,  was  born  the  same  day  I  was.  I  remem 
ber  well  enough  playing  with  him  and  his  brother,  the  late  Sir 
John,  when  we  were  all  younger  than  my  boy  yonder.  I  was  too 
young  to  know  much  about  the  final  quarrel  between  Sir  Elbert 
and  his  son,  but  I  heard  a  good  many  of  them.  Sir  Elbert  was 
violent  and  the  boy  was  fierce.  He  was  proud  as  Lucifer,  and 
when  his  father  struck  him  that  morning,  he  said,  "  You  are  my 
father,  and  I  cannot  strike  you  back,  but  I'll  leave  your  house," 
and  that  night  he  ran  away.  Within  a  year  he  died,  or  was  killed 
in  some  horrible  way,  I  don't  know  how,  and  Sir  Elbert  did  not 
live  long  after  him.  The  prophecy  !  Well,  sir,  the  people  used 
to  say  there  was  a  prophecy  about  the  Lacys  dying  young.  I 
don't  know  it.  It  was  something  about  "  bloody  jewels."  After 

3 


34  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

Sir  Elbert's  death  his  son,  Sir  John,  went  to  live  at  Oakland  with 
Mr.  Barston,  who  was  his  uncle.  He  was  riot  very  rich,  but  lived 
in  a  quiet  way  among  his  books ;  and  his  two  boys,  as  he  called 
them,  that  is  his  son  Lacy  and  Sir  John,  grew  up  together.  They 
were  a  good  deal  more  like  real  brothers  than  the  two  young  Lacys 
were,  and  I  am  sure  they  loved  each  other  dearly.  Mrs.  Barston 
was  Sir  Elbert's  sister,  and  one  of  the  best  women  that  ever  lived. 
The  people  called  her  Lady  Mary,  though  she  had  no  title.  There 
is  another  tradition  current  in  the  neighbourhood,  which  says  all 
the  bad  of  the  "  haughty  Lacys  "  is  monopolized  by  the  men  of  the 
race  and  all  the  good  is  monopolized  by  the  women. 

It  has  been  nearly  a  dozen  years  since  I  saw  or  heard  anything 
about  Devonshire  people.  My  father  had  a  large  family,  and  I 
persuaded  him  to  let  me  come  to  this  country  when  I  was  quite  a 
youth.  1  had  been  fairly  educated,  and  thought  I  could  make  my 
own  way  in  the  world  if  I  only  had  room.  But  I  have  never  been 
lucky,  somehow,  though  I  have  always  managed  just  to  get  along 
and  keep  my  head  above  water.  And  now  I  am  thinking  of  tak 
ing  my  bojr  to  Devonshire,  and  let  him  grow  up  among  his  own  kin. 
Oh,  yes,  sir,  I  am  sure  of  employment  that  will  yield  me  enough 
for  my  wants. 

You  wish  me  to  tell  you  what  I  know  of  Mr.  Butler?  I  would 
rather  talk  about  something  else.  I  suppose  you  have  some  good 
reason  for  asking,  but  I  don't  know  anything  very  good  about 
him,  and  have  no  desire  to  harm  him  in  any  way.  You  are  very 
good,  sir ;  but  I  do  not  believe  you  can  ever  befriend  Butler,  un 
less  you  could  make  him  leave  off  his  drink,  and  that  cannot  be 
done.  I  have  known  him  to  be  perfectly  sober  for  a  year  at  a  time, 
and  then  suddenly  fall  back  again  into  his  old  habits.  He  is  terri 
ble  when  he  begins  one  of  his  spells,  but  he  soon  gets  stupid  and 
harmless.  The  first  time  I  ever  saw  him  was  six  or  seven  years 
ago.  It  was  in  New  York.  I  can  tell  you  about  that,  certainly.  I 
was  working  in  one  of  the  theatres,  doing  odd  jobs  and  getting 
very  fair  pay.  I  had  to  stay  until  late.  When  I  had  finished  my 
duties,  I  went  through  the  stage  door  into  the  boxes,  to  see  the  last 
of  the  play,  and  just  as  the  curtain  fell  there  was  a  row  near  me. 
One  man  was  fighting  two,  and  that  seemed  wrong  in  my  English 
eyes.  So  I  went  in  and  took  one  of  the  two  in  hand.  It  only 
lasted  a  minute  or  two.  I  polished  my  man  off,  and  then  I  saw 
some  policemen  coming,  and  I  slipped  back  by  the  stage  door. 
Before  I  got  through  it  the  single  man  followed  me,  crossed  the 


JOHN  HAWDEKS  STORY.  35 

stage  with  me,  and  we  were  soon  in  a  side  street  and  safe.  It  was 
Butler.  He  was  perfectly  sober,  was  well  dressed,  and  looked  like 
a  gentleman,  and  talked  like  one.  The  fellow  he  was  fighting  had 
a  knife  and  had  cut  him  a  little  in  the  arm,  and  I  took  him  home 
with  me  and  dressed  his  wounds,  and  then  made  him  a  bed  on  the 
sofa.  He  had  that  scar  on  his  forehead,  and  it  was  something  that 
the  bruisers  at  the  theatre  had  said  about  that  which  brought  on 
the  fight, 

When  I  went  down  stairs  the  next  morning  I  found  Butler  up 
and  dressed.  He  was  trying  to  get  the  blood  stains  off  his  coat 
sleeve.  I  got  him  a  needle  and  thread,  and  he  sewed  up  the  cuts 
in  his  sleeve  very  neatly.  "  I  learned  that  at  sea,"  he  said.  My 
wife  was  sick,  and  Elbert  was  a  baby  then.  I  kindled  a  fire  and 
made  some  tea.  After  he  drank  a  cup  he  got  up  to  go. 

"  You're  English,"  he  said,  "  and  your  name  is  Hawder.  I  read 
it  in  the  Bible  yonder  before  you  carne  down.  I  am  going  now, 
but  I  want  to  come  to  see  you  again  some  time.  I  have  nothing 
to  say  about  last  night's  work.  If  I  had  seen  you  or  any  other 
man  beset  by  two  bullies,  I  should  have  done  what  you  did.  So 
would  any  Englishman.  I  hope  your  wife  will  soon  be  well  again. 
Good-bye." 

She  didn't  get  well  again.  A  month  later  I  buried  her.  When 
I  got  back  from  the  funeral  I  found  Butler  at  my  door.  I  was 
not  in  very  good  spirits,  and  did  not  want  company,  but  I  had  to 
invite  him  in.  He  did  not  talk  much,  as  he  was  pretty  full  of  rum. 
I  made  up  a  bed  for  him  again  and  left  him  asleep.  In  the  morn 
ing  he  was  worse.  He  had  been  drinking  in  the  night  and  was 
furious.  He  talked  a  lot  of  wild  stuff  about  being  at  sea,  and 
fights  on  bloody  decks  and  bags  of  doubloons.  I  was  not  much 
afraid  of  him,  though  he  was  frightful  enough ;  but  I  could  not 
leave  my  baby  boy  in  the  house  with  him  ;  so  I  took  the  child  out 
by  a  back  door,  and  left  him  with  a  neighbour  when  I  went  to  ray 
work.  When  I  went  back  at  dusk  he  was  gone.  He  repeated 
this  the  next  week,  and  I  don't  know  why  I  endured  it  as  long 
as  I  did.  Somehow  I  could  not  get  my  own  consent  to  turn 
him  out  or  refuse  him  admittance.  He  was  an  Englishman,  and 
somehow,  he  seemed  to  think  he  had  a  sort  of  claim  upon  me ; 
perhaps  because  we  had  been  in  the  scuffle  together  at  the  theatre. 
And  besides,  he  would  come  sometimes  well  dressed,  with  nice  kid 
gloves  on  his  hands — he  has  very  small  white  hands — and  would 
behave  like  a  gentleman.  He  would  tell  interesting  stories  about 


36  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

storms  at  sea,  or  about  adventures  with  savages  in  some  tropical 
island.  One  night,  I  remember,  he  told  how  he  and  a  shipmate 
had  got  lost  in  the  bush.  It  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  world — I 
think  in  Australia.  They  had  gone  ashore  to  nil  their  water 
casks.  He  must  have  been  an  officer,  as  he  left  the  men  at  their 
work  and  wandered  off  into  the  woods  with  his  companion.  "  We 
did  not  know  we  were  lost  until  dark,"  he  said ;  "  in  those  latitudes 
the  sun  goes  down  like  a  shot.  We  did  not  have  much  time  for 
discussion  before  we  knew  that  we  were  among  enemies.  A  long 
spear  came  glancing  through  the  bushes  and  plunged  into  a  tree 
trunk  by  our  side,  and  quivered  wickedly  in  the  failing  light. 
There  was  only  one  thing  to  be  done,  and  that  was  to  charge  in 
the  direction  from  which  the  spear  came  while  we  could  see'.  So 
we  tore  our  cutlasses  out  and  dashed  into  the  dark  bushes,  shout 
ing  aloud  in  English  for  our  men.  Another  spear  met  us  and 
made  an  ugly  hole  in  Jack's  side.  I  suppose  that  hurt  cost  half  a 
dozen  of  the  niggers  their  lives,  for  we  were  among  them  in  a 
minute,  and  Jack  laid  about  him  like  mad  !  I  was  as  cool  as  I  am 
now,  and  kept  up  the  shouting  while  I  fought.  My  pistols  were 
emptied  very  soon,  and  no  shots  were  wasted.  There  seemed  to 
be  a  hundred  of  the  black  devils,  and  they  would  have  finished 
my  history  pretty  soon,  if  the  men  had  not  come  up,  and  if  I  had 
not  been  wise  enough  to  keep  close  to  the  savages  so  that  they 
could  not  use  their  spears.  Half  a  dozen  pistol  shots  from  the  men 
concluded  the  fight.  The  savages  disappeared  like  a  lot  of  ghosts. 
We  had  to  leave  poor  Jack,  who  had  fought  his  last  battle.  My 
only  hurt  was  a  wound  in  the  head,  that  was  not  dangerous." 

"  Is  that  the  scar  on  your  forehead  P  I  asked.  His  face  sud 
denly  became  ghastly  pale,  while  the  ugly  seam  grew  purple.  At 
last  he  answered : 

"  No !  And,  Mr.  Hawder,  please  remember  that  all  reference  to 
this  beauty  spot  of  mine  is  forbidden  for  all  time  to  come.  And 
now  good-night."  And  he  walked  out  of  the  house  before  I  could 
speak. 

He  came  afterwards,  and  did  not  seem  to  remember  my  unlucky 
question,  which  I  need  not  say  was  never  repeated.  I  asked  him 
on  one  occasion,  when  he  was  telling  of  some  other  fight  he  and 
his  men  had,  how  it  happened  that  they  were  armed  ?  He  looked 
at  me  with  a  queer  expression,  and  said  "  it  was  customary  down 
there,"  but  that  was  the  last  of  his  fighting  stories.  When  he  was 
drunk  he  would  talk  all  kinds  of  outlandish  gibberish,  but  never 


JOHN  HAWDERS  STOEY.  37 

said  anything  that  was  connected  or  comprehensible.  I  have 
never  known  him  to  laugh,  except  in  such  a  horrid  fashion  that 
it  made  my  flesh  creep.  Mjr  belief  is  that  some  dreadful  secret  is 
on  his  mind,  connected  with  that  ugly  scar,  maybe,  that  drives 
him  to  drink  as  he  does. 

One  of  the  theatre  managers  owns  this  farm,  and  he  offered  me 
enough  money  to  give  me  a  bare  living,  with  this  house  to  live  in, 
if  I  would  come  here  and  oversee  his  land.  I  was  tired  of  New 
York,  and  tired  of  Mr.  Butler,  and  my  boy  was  puny  and  fretful, 
so  I  consented  and  moved  here  two  years  ago.  Elbert  seemed  to 
grow  strong  and  healthy  at  once,  and  I  was  able  to  have  him 
constantly  with  me,  and  as  I  left  no  traces,  I  lost  Mr.  Butler — or 
rather  he  lost  me.  I  never  saw  him  after  I  moved  until  last 
autumn — it  was  October ;  the  boy  and  I  were  in  the  orchard  yon 
der  gathering  apples.  We  were  under  the  big  tree  by  the  road 
side  when  a  Jersey  wagon  came  down  the  road,  and  the  man  who 
was  driving  stopped  his  horse,  and  asked  me  the  way  to  Baird's. 
It  was  Butler.  He  had  a  lady  and  a  little  girl  with  him,  and  one 
or  two  trunks  were  in  the  back  part  of  the  wagon.  He  knew  me, 
'of  course,  and  I  knew  him,  but  he  gave  no  sign  of  recognition,  and 
neither  did  I.  He  thanked  me  civilly  for  the  information  I  gave 
him  and  then  drove  on.  I  have  not  seen  him  since,  but  I  heard 

his  voice  the  other  night,  when  Mr. Smith  was  nursing  me  so 

kindly. 

Did  I  know  Mr.  Lacy  Barston  ?  Yes,  sir,  I  knew  him  well.  He 
was  a  mere  stripling  when  I  left  England.  Heigho !  It  is  a  won 
derful  relief  to  change  the  subject  of  discourse.  Mr.  Barston  is, 
or  was,  the  noblest  gentleman  I  ever  knew  or  heard  of.  No  Lacy 
blood  in  him,  except  what  he  got  from  his  mother,  Lady  Mary, 
and  he  could  get  nothing  but  good  from  her.  His  father  was  not 
rich,  and  he  had  very  little  pocket  money,  but  what  he  had  was 
mostly  spent  for  the  comfort  of  poor  people  about  Oakland.  I 
remember  that  he  and  Sir  John  were  out  shooting  one  day,  and 
Sir  John  shot  at  an  old  horse  of  Farmer  Dawson's  in  pure  wanton 
ness.  The  horse  was  too  far  off  for  the  shot  to  hurt  him,  but  he 
was  frightened,  and  tried  to  leap  over  a  fence  and  got  staked,  so 
that  he  had  to  be  shot  in  earnest.  Mr.  Barstou  said  nothing  about 
it,  but  he  saved  up  his  weekly  allowance  until  he  had  enough  to 
buy  another  horse,  which  he  sent  to  Dawson  with  Sir  John's  good 
icishes.  I  know  all  about  it,  because  I  took  the  horse  and  the 
message,  being  bound  to  secresy  first.  I  never  saw  him.  out  of 


38  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

temper  in  my  life,  though  I  have  known  him  to  endure  bad  treat 
ment  from  his  cousin  more  than  once,  and  fairly  conquer  him  at  last 
by  sheer  amiability.  It  was  not  for  want  of  pluck,  sir.  He  could 
have  doubled  up  Sir  John  in  two  minutes,  and  I  don't  believe  he 
knew  what  fear  was.  He  was  always  playing  off  some  prank,  and 
his  whole  life  appeared  to  be  one  joke.  His  great  delight  was  to 
disguise  himself  and  pass  himself  off  for  somebody  else.  The 
last  trick  I  knew  him  to  play  was  upon  Lord  Morton,  to  whom  he 
got  introduced  as  a  French  governess.  He  wrote  a  lot  of  letters 
from  people  Lord  Morton  knew,  and  took  them  himself  to  Laving- 
ton,  and  actually  was  engaged  by  Lord  and  Lady  Morton  for  their 
daughter,  Miss  Ret,  now  Lady  Lacy.  It  was  she  who  discovered 
him  after  he  had  deceived  everybody  else.  They  did  not  agree, 
for  some  reason,  though  there  was  never  any  quarreling  between 
them.  Oh  no,  sir !  he  only  passed  himself  off  for  the  French 
woman  for  a  joke.  None  of  his  jokes  ever  hurt  anybody.  He 
would  not  harm  a  fly. 

Since  I  left  England  I  have  heard  of  his  father's  death,  and  also 
that  he  had  inherited  a  good  lot  of  money  from  some  distant 
cousin.  And  in  the  last  hair  dozen  years  he  has  wandered  all- 
over  the  earth.  No  one  can  tell  where  he  is  at  any  time  certainly. 
He  has  been  in  Australia,  in  South  America,  and  once  on  a  polar 
expedition,  where  he  was  caught  two  winters  in  the  ice.  Yes,  sir, 
I  think  he  has  been  in  this  country  too.  Well,  yes,  sir,  I  may  say  I 
know  he  has.  Have  I  ever  seen  him  here  ?  Well,  sir,  I  might  have 
seen  him  many  a  time  without  knowing  him,  as  he  can  make  him 
self  look  like  anybody  rather  than  himself.  Have  I  never  seen 
him  to  know  him  ?  Well,  sir,  you  know  if  I  had  seen  him  in 
any  other  character  than  his  own  I  would  not  feel  at  liberty  to 

;  thank  you  sir,  I  am  sure  you  would  not  wish  me  to  betray  any 

confidence.  I  don't  mean, though,  that  I  have  been  bound  up;  I 
mean — I  don't  mean  anything.  I  feel  a  little  tired  talking  so 
much ;  might  I  go  lie  down  awhile  ?  Thank  you,  sir. 


CAPTAIN  S THONG'S  STORY.  39 

CHAPTER  V. 
CAPTAIN  STRONG'S  STORY. 

I  AM  captain  of  the  royal  mail  steamer  "  Austria,"  belong 
ing  to  the  New  York  and  Liverpool  line.    I  have  crossed  the 
Atlantic  ninety  times,  and  have  seen  all  sorts  of  weather.    Yes,  I 
have  carried  all  sorts  of  people,  too.     Perhaps  the  queerest  lot  I 
ever  carried  was  on  my  last  voyage.    The  ship  left  New  Y"ork  at 
noon  on  the  tenth  day  of  April,  in  the  midst  of  a  blinding  snow 
storm.    I  remember  that  everything  about  the  laud  was  white, 
and  that  we  sailed  into  bright  skies  and  shook  the  snow  out  of  our 
sails  before  dark  when  the  pilot  left  us.     The  wind  came  cold  and 
strong  off  the  Long  Island  coast,  which  lay  all  white  on  our  lar 
board  quarter,  and  took  the  old  ship  like  a  race  horse  out  of  sight 
of  laud.  We  had  but  few  passengers,  as  it  was  too  early  in  the  season 
for  the  Yankee  rush.    You  know  the  Yankees  don't  begin  until 
May.    The  day  before  we  sailed  a  nice  gentleman  came  aboard  to 
look  at  his  state  room  and  arrange  his  trunks.     I  had  a  list  of  my 
passengers,  or  rather  the  purser  had,  and  we  looked  through  the 
list  to  find  his  number,  as  he  had  forgotten  it.    We  soon  found  it 
— "  Mr.  John  Smith  and  daughter."    He  had  one  of  the  best  state 
rooms  in  the  ship.    The  twin  room  next  to  it,  number  six,  was 
taken  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barston.    Mr.  Smith  seemed  to  think  this 
was  a  queer  name,  and  asked  me  a  great  many  questions  about 
them.     But  I  could  not  tell  him,  as  I  had  not  seen  them.    But  at 
sailing  time  there  was  no  u  Mr.  Smith  and  daughter,"  and  I  had 
to  go  without  them.     Just  before  dark,  when  the  pilot  boat 
quitted  us,  an  old  gentleman,  who  had  a  bright  little  boy  by  the 
hand,  handed  me  a  letter,  which  only  contained  a  line  or  two.     1 
remember  every  word  of  it.     "  Mr.  John  Smith  presents  his  com 
pliments  to  Captain  Strong,  and  regrets  that  his  name  must  be 
erased  from  the  passenger  list.    But  his  friend,  Mr.  John  Jones, 
the  bearer,  has  taken  Mr.  Smith's  ticket  for  himself  and  son,  and 
the  agents  have  kindly  consented  to  the  transfer.     Mr.  Jones  will 
take  charge  of  Mr.  Smith's  luggage  to  Liverpool,  as  he  has  very 
little  of  his  own."    Of  course  I  was  bound  to  be  polite  to  the  old 
gentleman,  who  was  very  feeble,  and  I  showed  him  to  his  state 
room,  number  eight.    Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barston  were  already  in  num 
ber  six.    I  think  Mr.  Barston  had  had  something  to  drink  before 
he  came  aboard,  and  I  know  he  had  had  something  since  the  ship 


40  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

left  her  dock.  Mr.  Barston  kept  up  steam  enough  to  run  the  ship 
ill  his  own  stateroom.  His  wife,  who  was  a  very  handsome  woman, 
stuck  faithfully  by  him  and  must  have  had  a  hard  time.  She  was 
seasick,  too,  poor  thing.  For  a  whole  week  she  never  got  on  deck, 
and  her  husband  never  stopped  drinking.  He  had  a  bottle  of 
champagne  at  breakfast  time,  aiid' always  finished  it  before  he  left 
the  table.  He  was  very  polite,  especially  to  old  Mr.  Jones  (who 
sat  next  to  him),  and  would  have  been  good  looking  enough  if  it 
had  not  been  for  a  long  seam  across  his  forehead  that  looked  like 
a  sword  cut.  It  was  generally  red,  but  when  he  would  take  a 
tantrum,  which  was  pretty  often,  it  would  get  purple,  and  then  he 
looked  like  the  devil.  The  steward  always  had  to  take  him  to 
his  state  room  from  the  table,  while  the  stewardess  took  care  of 
his  poor  wife,  who  did  not  eat  enough  to  sustain  a  snipe. 

Old  Mr.  Jones  was  very  regular  in  his  habits.  In  the  morning 
he  and  his  little  boy,  Johnny,  had  a  regular  romp  on  deck.  They 
had  it  all  to  themselves,  as  none  of  the  other  passengers  got  about 
so  early.  The  child  was  very  shy,  and  I  could  never  get  more 
than  a  word  or  two  out  of  him,  and  he  was  always  watching  his 
father  as  if  he  wanted  to  know  what  he  would  like  him  to  say.  I 
picked  him  up  one  day  suddenly,  to  show  him  a  school  of  por-  • 
poises  near  the  ship,  and  asked  him,  "  Is  your  name  Johnny  P 
Bless  you,  he  was  only  a  mite,Jt>ut  he  opened  his  eyes  wide  and 
sharp  and  answered,  "That's  what  papa  calls  me!"  I  hadn't 
time  to  ask  him  any  more,  as  the  old  gentleman  took  him  out  of 
my  arms,  saying,  "  He  is  the  best  child  alive,  captain,  but  is  a 
little  shy  P 

After  breakfast  the  old  gentleman  always  went  into  the  second 
cabin.  You  know  the  second  cabin  passengers  could  not  come 
into  the  saloon,  and  could  not  come  abaft  the  mainmast,  but  the 
first  cabin  passengers  could  go  where  they  liked.  Mr.  Jones  was 
very  fond  of  pottering  about  among  the  seasick  passengers  and 
brightening  them  up  a  bit.  There  was  one  poor  fellow,  a  Mr. 
Hawder,  who  was  very  miserable,  but  Mr.  Jones  actually  got  him 
on  deck  a  day  or  two  before  we  saw  the  Irish  coast.  He  had  a 
boy  with  him,  too,  a  bright  little  fellow  who  staid  by  his  father 
all  the  time.  When  Mr.  Jones  got  them  up  and  comfortably  fixed 
near  the  funnel,  he  went  down  after  his  boy,  and  walked  about 
the  deck  for  some  hours.  I  suppose  the  children  would  have 
liked  to  play  together,  but  the  old  gentleman  kept  to  his  own  part 
of  the  deck  and  never  let  go  his  boy's  hand.  It  was  all  well 
enough,  you  know,  for  him  to  go  among  the  second  class  passeu- 


CAPTAIN  STRONG'S  STORY.  41 

gers,  but  be  did  not  intend  the  cbild  to  form  any  second  class 
acquaintances.    Bless  you!  be  was  as  proud  as  Lucifer! 

I  am  coining  now  to  the  end  of  iny  story.  We  sighted  the  coast 
on  Sunday,  a  gale  blowing  from  the  nor' west.  It  was  just  after 
dinner  and  nigh  dark.  We  had  had  good  weather  until  that  Sun 
day,  but  it  came  in  with  a  gale  of  wind,  and  by  night  it  was  a 
regular  storm.  Most  of  the  passengers  were  huddled  in  their 
berths,  but  when  the  storm  was  knocking  the  old  ship  the  hardest, 
\vlio  should  come  on  deck  but  Mr.  Barston !  He  had  been  pretty 
sober  all  day,  that  is,  for  him.  Bet  I  have  always  noticed  that  a 
man  who  gets  champagne  drunk — I  mean  a  good  regular  drunk — 
don't  get  entirely  sober  under  a  week.  His  wife  was  not  able  to 
be  with  him,  as  the  rough  sea  had  put  her  to  bed,  where  she  lay 
helpless  and  miserable.  Old  Mr.  Jones  had  Mr.  Barston's  arm, 
and  they  both  appeared  rather  to  like  the  weather  than  otherwise. 

"  I  think  you  will  find  it  more  comfortable  below,  gentlemen,"  I 
said,  as  they  cluiig  to  the  rail  on  the  lee  side  of  the  gangway. 

"  Below  !"  shouted  Mr.  Barston.  "  Why,  captain,  this  is  glori 
ous!  It  is  the  first  good  weather  you  have  had.  I  have  been 
caught  in  a  cyclone  twice,  and  could  sleep  comfortably  on  deck  in 
this  little  breeze." 

"  But,  Mr.  Jones " 

"  Never  mind  me,  captain,"  said  the  old  gentleman.  "  I,  also, 
have  seen  Averse  storms  than  this.  Mr.  Barston  was  anxious  to 
tell  me  a  story,  as  he  expresses  it,  and  says  he  can  only  tell  it  in 
the  open  air." 

They  seated  themselves  on  the  edge  of  the  skylight  grating, 
just  under  the  lee  of  my  cabin.  I  was  studying  my  charts,  and 
was  within  a  yard  of  them  while  they  sat  there. 

"  You  will  remember,  then,  Mr.  Barston,"  said  I,  "  that  you 
must  not  talk  any  secrets,  as  I  cannot  help  overhearing  you." 

"All  right,  captain !  My  story  is  only  a  bit  of  romance  that  I 
am  anxious  to  tell  Mr.  Jones.  I  dare  say  it  will  put  you  to  sleep 
if  yon  listen." 

But  I  didn't  go  to  sleep.  And  when  the  story  was  over  I  half 
fancied  that  I  should  never  go  to  sleep  again !  I  had  put  the  ship 
head  to  wind,  and  felt  pretty  safe  for  the  night,  and  only  wished 
to  confirm  my  judgment  by  going  over  the  charts  once  more.  Mr. 
Barston  had  evidently  a  fit  of  the  horrors,  as  no  man  perfectly 
sane  could  have  said  the  things  he  said.  I  cannot  understand  to 
this  day  how  poor  old  Mr.  Jones  took  the  thing  so  quietly.  They 


42  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

sat  there,  and  talked  and  smoked  cigars,  raising  their  voices  when 
the  wind  howled  through  the  rigging,  but  neither  of  them  paying 
the  smallest  attention  to  the  storm,  which  was  about  as  bad  a 
storm  as  I  ever  encountered. 

"Well,  Mr.  Jones,"  began  the  other,  "my  story  is  about  some 
English  people — boys  and  girls,  and  men  and  women.  You  are 
an  Englishman  F 

"Yes." 

"  I  thought  so.  But  it  is  not  likely  that  you  ever  heard  of  my 
boys  and  girls.  Let  me  see !  There  were  two  boys,  brothers,  who 
lived  in  England — no  matter  what  part — some  years  ago !  What 
did  you  call  that  youngster  of  yours  F 

"John." 

"  And  that  kid  of  Hawder's  is  called  Elbert,  is  he  not  F 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  let  me  call  my  two  boys  Elbert  and  John.  Those  names 
will  do  to  distinguish  them  as  well  as  any.  Elbert  was  the  elder 
by  a  year,  and  was  heir  to  a  good  name  and  a  fairish  estate.  But 
his  father  spent  about  eight  years  in  developing  whatever  there 
was  of  the  devil  in  the  elder  boy,  and  at  the  end  of  that  period 
struck  him.  On  the  same  night  Elbert  ran  away,  and  he  never 
set  foot  in  his  father's  house  afterwards.  In  a  year  or  two  his 
father  heard  of  his  death,  and  not  long  after  died  himself;  so  John 
was  left  the  last  of  his  race.  Do  you  understand  F 

"Yes." 

"  Elbert  walked  out  of  his  father's  house — a  mere  child,  mind 
you — and  within  a  mile  he  fell  in  with  a  company  of  roving  players, 
who  took  pity  on  him,  and  gave  him  a  blanket  to  sleep  on  in  their 
tent.  By  daylight  they  were  off,  taking  the  boy  with  them.  He 
had  a  little  pocket  money,  but  they  would  take  none  of  it.  During 
the  day  they  plodded  on,  aiming  to  reach  some  village  by  night 
fall,  when  they  would  spread  their  tent  and  gather  all  the  loose 
shillings  they  could  by  their  performances.  One  of  the  actors  had 
a  daughter  about  Elbert's  age.  Her  name  was — well,  call  her 
Kitty  Willis — as  Willis  was  her  father's  name,  and  Kitty  will  do 
as  well  as  any  name  to  designate  her.  Elbert  told  this  girl  his 
story — the  exact  truth — and  they  two  kept  the  secret.  She  was 
kind  to  him  then  and  always.  God  bless  her!  She  ought  to  be 
blessed,  for  nobody  else  was  ever  kind  to  him !  It  seems  to  me 
now,  as  I  recall  his  story,  that  he  came  into  the  world  at  enmity 
with  humanity,  and  that  poor  little  girl,  the  half  orphan  daughter 


CAPTAIN  STRONG'S  STORY.  43 

of  a  strolliiig  player,  set  herself  against  humanity  in  pitying  and 
befriending  him ! 

"For  three  months  the  boy  wandered  through  the  provinces,  tak 
ing  some  little  parts  in  their  plays  sometimes,  rather  tolerated  than 
otherwise,  and  leading  a  hard  enough  sort  of  life.  The  other  child 
kept  a  sort  of  watch  over  him,  and  did  what  she  could  to  lighten  his 
burdens.  He  was  a  mere  mite,  you  know.  But  it  never  once  oc- 
ciirred  to  him  that  he  might  go  back  to  his  father's  house  and  live 
like  a  gentleman.  One  day,  three  months  after  he  had  left  his 
home,  the  players  were  in  Liverpool,  and  Elbert  was  accosted  in 
the  street  by  a  gentleman  who  recognized  him — a  Mr. .  No  mat 
ter  ;  he  was  a  neighbour  of  his  father's.  Yes — related  to  him.  He 
— the  old  gentleman — said  the  boy  must  certainly  return  to  his 
father's  house.  The  boy  answered  by  darting  down  an  alley  and 
escaped.  But  before  he  got  away  the  old  gentleman  had  extorted 
a  promise  from  him  that  he  would  communicate  with  his  father 
the  next  day.  So  he  kept  his  promise.  He  addressed  a  note  the 
next  evening  to  his  father  from  the  deck  of  the  Hindoo,  a  Cal 
cutta  liner,  and  gave  it  to  the  pilot  at  the  mouth  of  the  Mersey. 
He  had  shipped  as  a  cabin  boy,  a  poor  orphan  who  could  read  and 
write  a  little.  Twenty  years  ago  the  Hindoo  sailed  probably  with 
in  a  few  miles  of  this  very  spot.  She  was  spoken  just  out  of  sight 
of  land,  and  she  was  never  heard  of  again ! 

"  But  master  Elbert  could  tell  the  history  of  that  voyage  if  you 
could  only  get  at  him !  The  ship  got  round  the  Cape  and  was 
crawling  along  under  light  breezes  in  the  Bay  of  Bengal  when 
she  met  another  ship.  This  was  a  brigantine,  which  outsailed  the 
Hindoo  in  the  light  wind,  and  was  soon  within  half  a  mile,  and 
then  she  hoisted  a  black  flag  and  began  to  fire  upon  the  big  ship. 
The  boy  could  not  give  many  details.  He  could  tell  of  a  day's 
fighting  under  that  burning  sun,  of  decks  slippery  with  blood, 
of  the  gallant  stand  made  by  a  score  of  desperate  men  as  a 
hundred  fiends  at  last  clambered  on  board.  He  could  remember 
the  hopeless  struggle  against  enormous  odds,  and  the  death  of  the 
last  man  who  resisted.  He  could  tell  how  the  pirate  captain  hes 
itated  a  moment  whether  or  not  to  chop  off  his  head  also,  anil 
finally  concluded  to  spare  him,  because  he  cursed  him  to  his  face! 
He  could  also  tell  how  the  ship  was  gutted  and  scuttled,  and  how  he, 
the  solitary  survivor  of  all  her  company,  sailed  away  from  the  scene 
of  the  strife,  under  the  black  flag  of  the  pirate,  as  her  cabin  boy. 

"  The  brigantine  was  manned  by  men  of  all  nations.    The  captain 


44  THE   LACY  DIAMONDS. 

was  an  American,  and  his  name  was  Butler.  He  was  the  most 
hideous  mortal  that  ever  lived.  He  was  all  brnte.  But,  for  some 
unaccountable  reason,  he  took  a  liking  to  that  boy — the  waif  he 
had  gathered  from  the  sea — and  though  he  cursed  him  twenty 
times  a  day,  he  did  not  maltreat  him.  For  ten  years,  in  which  the 
boy  passed  into  manhood,  he  was  the  constant  companion  of  that 
brute.  And  when  the  captain  died — must  I  tell  you  how  he  died  ? 
Well!  It  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  world. 

u  They  had  a  law  on  the  brig,  in  fact  they  had  several  laws.  One 
related  to  the  distribution  of  gains.  Every  man  had  the  same 
share  in  the  gains,  which  were  sometimes  honest  enough,  except 
that  the  ship  paid  no  customs.  She  was  an  armed  smuggler,  and 
they  had  an  island  on  the  Australian  coast,  which  was  totally  in 
accessible  except  at  one  spot  known  only  to  the  smugglers.  It 
was  the  mouth  of  a  little  river,  almost  concealed  by  the  dense 
undergrowth,  but  affording  secure  anchorage.  It  was  a  famous 
hiding  place.  Here  they  would  land  their  guns  sometimes,  and 
leaving  nine-tenths  of  the  crew,  would  sail  out,  their  yards  all 
down,  and  go  on  a  trading  expedition  under  fore  and  aft  sails. 
An  officer  or  two  staid  with  the  shore  crew  and  maintained  disci 
pline,  which  was  rigid  and  inexorable.  Another  law  related  to 
quarrels,  which  were  infrequent.  This  provided  that  any  serious 
quarrel  should  be  settled  by  the  quarrelers.  They  were  landed  at 
some  safe  place,  armed  only  with  cutlasses,  and  time  allowed  them 
to  settle  their  differences.  The  survivor  was  taken  aboard  and 
no  questions  asked.  Officers  were  the  peers  of  officers,  and  they 
could  not  quarrel  except  among  themselves.  The  men  were  not 
allowed  to  answer  officers,  and  no  disputes  were  possible. 

u  Elbert  was  a  lieutenant.  He  had  been  promoted,  as  all  officers 
were,  by  the  unanimous  vote  of  the  men.  He  had  done  something 
that  the  men  thought  particularly  plucky  in  a  little  fight  with 
savages.  The  captain  would  have  prevented  the  promotion  if  he 
dared,  but  he  was  powerless  against  the  unanimous  vote  of  the 
crew.  But  it  was  possible  to  tantalize  the  boy — for  he  was  under 
twenty  when  he  was  elected — and  one  day  there  was  a  savage 
quarrel.  You  may  think  it  strange,  but  they  quarrelled  about 
their  nationalities.  One  might  think  all  love  or  respect  for  one's 
country  would  die  out  in  such  a  life,  but  it  did  not.  Each  said 
some  terribly  hard  things  about  the  other's  birth  place,  and  at  last 
some  words  were  spoken  that  brought  the  steel  out  of  the  scab 
bard.  They  were  quickly  disarmed,  the  brig's  head  put  about, 


CAPTAIN  8TBON&S  STORY.  45 

and  the  next  day  they  were  on  the  Australian  coast,  far  out  of  the 
track  of  ordinary  traffic.  A  boat  was  lowered,  and  the  captain 
and  Elbert  were  landed  with  their  weapons  in  their  belts.  As 
they  walked  into  the  bush  Elbert  recognized  the  old  battle  ground 
where  he  had  encountered  the  savages  a  few  months  before. 

"  I  don't  know  whether  you  are  enough  interested  in  the  boy  to 
care  about  his  emotions,  but  I  may  as  well  tell  them.  He  thought 
first  of  his  kindred  in  far-off  Euglaud,  and  the  thought  of  them 
made  him  more  eager  to  settle  accounts  with  Butler,  who  had 
dared  to  traduce  them  in  traducing  his  country.  Then  he 
thought  of  the  fierce  struggle  that  had  occurred  under  those  very 
trees  when  he  had  fought  his  way  from  forecastle  to  quarter  deck. 
Then  he  thought  of  a  resolution  he  had  formed,  which  was  to  quit 
that  accursed  vessel  that  day,  dead  or  alive  !  He  had  collected  all 
his  booty,  which  was  mainly  in  Bank  of  England  notes,  and  it  was 
belted  around  his  body.  He  had  exchanged  a  lot  of  gold  for  this 
money  the  last  time  the  brig  had  been  a  schooner,  when  they  were 
in  a  civilized  port.  It  was  Melbourne. 

"  A  hundred  yards  from  the  shore — it  was  a  little  bay  on  the  north 
coast — they  came  out  of  the  bushes  upon  a  sandy  opening,  and 
Elbert  unbuckled  his  sword  belt,  drew  his  cutlass,  and  threw  belt 
and  scabbard  on  the  ground. 

"  See  here,  Britisher!"  said  Butler,  as  he  bared  his  own  blade, 
"  have  you  any  objection  to  jaw  a  little  before  we  begin  !" 

"  None  in  the  world,  except  that  time  presses.  There  is  a  storm 
brewing,  and  the  brig  would  be  safer  a  little  farther  from  the 
shore." 

"Wa-al!"  drawled  the  captain,"  we  need  not  trouble  ourselves 
about  the  brig.  I  have  a  proposition  to  make  !" 

"  Make  it !" 

"  Wa-al !  I  bear  no  malice.  If  we  git  to  choppiu'  one  another 
here,  I  guess  we'll  both  git  hurt  some.  I  don't  want  to  hurt  you 
particular,  and  dam'me  if  I  want  to  git  hurt  myself!" 

u  I  do  not  understand  you !" 

"  Oh,  it's  all  plain  enough.  Instead  of  fightin',  s'pose  we  toss  up  ? 
whichever  wins  shall  return  to  the  brig.  The  other  stays  here  !" 

"  I  am  not  going  back  to  the  brig  in  any  event,"  answered  El 
bert  coldly.  "  If  you  will  apologize  for  your  insulting  words,  you 
may  return  and  welcome." 

"And  if  not " 

"  1  will  assault  you  when  I  count  ten.     One,  two,  three,  four — 


46  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Hold  hard,  Britisher !  I  cave !  There's  my  hand.  What ! 
you  won't  take  it  ?  Wa-al !  no  matter.  I  apologize  for  what  I  said, 
and  I  think  you  might  oblige  me  by  tossing  up!  You  won't? 
Wa-al,  I'll  go  then.  Look  here,  boy !  Don't  be  fool  enough  to 
think  I  am  afeard  to  fight  you.  You  have  seen  me  tackle  bigger 
men  before  now.  The  truth  is  I  am  sick  of  the  brig,  and  I  did  not 
want  to  kill  you,  and  if  you  had  a  grain  of  sense  you  would  go 
back !  They  would  make  you  captain !  You  won't  ?  Wa-al  j 
good  bye,  and  good  luck  to  you !  It  is  not  likely  that  we  shall 

meet  again  this  side  of whatever  place  sich  good  people  as  us 

go  to !    I  s'pose  you  know  that  btishmen  live  hereabouts  ?" 

"Yes.  I  saw  a  few  of  them  just  where  you  stand  only  three 
months  ago  !" 

"  Wa-al !  that's  cur'ous.  But  I  b'lieve  you're  right  ;  and  if  you 
think  this  is  a  healthy  spot,  I  don't.  You  are  not  likely  to  come 
off  as  well  this  time  as  the  last,  and  the  best  piece  of  advice  I  can 
give  you  is  to  keep  your  eyes  skun  !  Good  bye." 

"  Elbert  watched  him  as  he  pushed  his  way  through  the  bushes, 
picked  up  his  belt  and  sheathed  his  weapon,  and  then  creeping  on 
hands  and  knees,  gained  a  little  knoll  near  the  beach,  and  saw  the 
captain  ostentatiously  wiping  his  bloodless  cutlass  on  a  handful 
of  broad  leaves  that  he  had  plucked  as  he  passed  through  the  bush, 
and  stepping  into  the  rocking  boat.  Half  an  hour  later  the  boat 
was  hanging  at  the  davits,  and  the  hoarse  song  of  the  crew  as  they 
hoisted  in  the  anchor  came  floating  over  the  water. 

"  The  heavens  were  black,  and  the  wind  came  in  little  fitful  gusts, 
as  the  brig  expanded  her  wings  and  turned  her  prow  seaward. 
Elbert  climbed  a  tree  on  the  high  ground  and  watched  the  vessel, 
as  she  rose  and  fell,  slowly  crawling  away  from  the  coast.  Then  he 
fastened  himself  securely  in  a  fork  of  the  tree  with  his  sword  belt, 
and  fell  asleep — sleeping  as  only  a  sailor  can  sleep  amid  the  roar  of 
the  storm,  as  it  swept  over  land  and  sea.  You  hear  the  wind  now  ? 
Well,  it  is  a  mere  zephyr  compared  with  that  tropical  tornado  ! 

"  Now  there  are  two  or  three  things  that  I  must  tell  you  to  make 
my  story  hang  together.  First,  about  the  boy.  In  the  ten  years 
he  spent  in  that  floating  hell  he  had  never  once  forgotten  that  he 
was  born  a  gentleman.  All  his  gains  were  honest  gains,  barring 
the  absurd  customs.  He  participated  in  the  profits  of  smuggling, 
but  he  shared  not  in  the  profits  of  piracy,  though  these  were  by  far 
the  larger.  Again,  he  had  never  destroyed  human  life,  except  in 
one  terrible  fight  with  savages,  so  brutal  that  they  might  scarcely 


CAPTAIN  STRONG' S  STORY.  47 

be  called  hum  an,  and  then  he  fought  for  his  own  life.  In  the  hor 
rid  conflicts  that  occurred,  though  rarely,  he  simply  refused  to  take 
a  part,  though  he  also  refused  to  shelter  himself  while  the  fight 
lasted.  He  would  stand  on  the  deck  and  take  his  share  of  shot 
or  sabre  stroke,  though  he  would  not  strike  back.  His  life  was 
preserved  by  one  long  miracle — reserved  for  worse  horrors  than 
any  he  encountered  on  the  pirate's  deck. 

"  The  second  point  relates  to  the  ship.  It  would  seem  incredible 
that  a  vessel  should  live  a  dozen  years  in  these  days  of  steam, 
preying  upon  all  mankind.  But  it  is  nearly  certain  that  no  man 
lived  who  knew  the  true  character  of  the  innocent  schooner 
Peggy,  whose  marine  papers  were  always  straight  and  regular. 
She  remained  the  Peggy  until  she  disappeared  in  the  thick 
growth  of  her  secret  anchorage,  and  when  she  emerged,  brig 
rigged,  with  her  two  terrible  guns,  she  was  altogether  another 
ship.  And  again,  whenever  she  assaulted  a  strange  sail,  it  was 
clearly  understood  by  every  man  under  her  flag  that  it  must  be 
victory  or  death  :  and  also,  that  no  witnesses  must  be  left  when 
the  victory  was  won !  When  she  left  the  island  armed  for  piracy, 
every  man  was  required  to  be  on  board,  and  when  she  sailed  away 
from  the  coast  that  afternoon,  she  carried  with  her  every  mortal 
that  knew  her  except  the  boy  that  was  peacefully  sleeping  in  the 
tree.  As  for  him,  his  chance  of  escape  from  that  dreary  wilder 
ness  was  less  than  it  would  have  been  had  he  been  cast  into  the 
sea  a  thousand  miles  from  land,  with  an  oar  to  keep  him  afloat. 

"  The  third  point  relates  to  the  strange  proposition  of  Butler  to 
remain  in  the  wilderness,  and  allow  Elbert  to  return  to  the  ship. 
I  cannot  explain  his  conduct.  It  is  not  credible  that  he  was 
afraid,  or  that  he  doubted  as  to  the  result  of  the  combat.  If  they 
had  fought  he  would  have  killed  the  boy,  for  he  was  a  cold  blooded 
sworder  of  no  ordinary  skill.  There  may  have  been  some  lingering 
ray  of  human  feeling  left  in  his  wicked  bosom.  The  boy  had 
nursed  him  once  when  he  was  badly  wounded  and  mad  with 
fever,  and  staid  by  him,  enduring  his  curses,  until  the  crisis  was 
past.  Or  he  may  have  had  some  plan  of  escape  that  I  cannot 
conceive.  The  north  coast  of  Australia,  in  that  day,  was  the 
crater  of  the  pit ! 

"  The  last  point  relates  to  the  boy  sleeping  in  the  tree  top.  How 
could  he  sleep,  knowing  all  I  have  told  you  ?  I  cannot  explain 
this  either.  He  had  lived  a  hard  life,  and  had  gathered  some  sort 
of  philosophy  out  of  it.  He  bad  carried  his  life  in  his  hands  so 


48  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

long  that  he  did  not  value  it  very  highly.  He  was  young  and 
strong  and  hopeful,  and  he  saw  his  dismal  prison  floating  away 
from  him.  And  God  had  been  merciful  to  him  thus  far,  for  his 
hands  were  unstained.  Poor,  poor  boy!  if  you  had  known  him 
you  would  have  pitied  him  also." 

I  do  pity  him  from  the  core  of  my  heart,"  replied  Mr.  Jones. 

"Do  you?  Well,  well!  the  boy  slept;  possibly  because  there 
was  a  natural  reaction  from  high  excitement.  When  he  opened 
his  eyes  the  tempest  was  over,  and  the  streaks  in  the  eastern  sky 
betokened  the  approach  of  day.  The  sun  rose  out  of  the  tossing 
waves,  and  Elbert,  hungry  and  thirsty,  began  to  estimate  his 
chances  and  form  his  plans.  He  climbed  higher  up  the  tree  and 
peered  anxiously  into  the  virgin  forest,  wondering  how  long  it 
would  be  before  he  would  see  the  long  spear  of  the  bushrnan 
glancing  among  the  green  leaves.  Then  he  looked  seaward  along 
the  line  of  coast,  and  he  saw  two  things.  First,  the  hull  of  a  ship, 
dismasted  and  broken,  rolling  in  towards  the  beach,  and  second, 
the  body  of  a  man  in  the  water,  bobbing  up  and  down,  almost  at 
the  foot  of  the  tree.  He  descended  rapidly,  and  pausing  to  plunge 
his  head  in  the  little  stream  that  trickled  over  the  sand,  and  to 
quench  his  thirst,  he  waded  out  through  the  surf  arid  drew  the 
body  to  the  beach,  recognizing  the  unlovely  features  of  his  late 
captain,  swollen  and  disfigured  in  death. 

"  A  more  careful  survey  of  the  bay  showed  him  a  boat,  bottom 
up,  drifting  towards  the  shore.  The  brig  had  grounded  just  inside 
the  eastern  headland  a  mile  or  more  from  where  he  stood.  With 
the  prompt  decision  of  a  sailor  he  stripped  off  his  clothes,  and 
swam  out  to  the  boat,  and,  with  great  difficulty,  turned  it  partly 
on  its  side,  when  he  discovered  the  mast  and  sail  still  in  place. 
Partly  swimming,  and  partly  carried  by  the  tide,  he  once  more 
gained  the  shore,  where  the  boat,  beating  on  the  shingle,  shook 
the  mast  out  of  the  step.  Securing  this,  and  drawing  it  out  on  the 
sand,  his  next  task  was  to  right  the  pinnace  with  infinite  labour, 
and  then  with  patient  toil  he  baled  her  out  with  his  hat. 

"It  was  high  noon  when  he  pushed  off  from  the  land,  and  with  a 
fair  breeze  sailed  towards  the  wreck,  now  hard  aground  and 
motionless.  The  stern  had  caught  on  a  tongue  of  rock  projecting 
into  the  bay,  and  the  battered  bows  were  almost  submerged  when 
he  clambered  on  board.  Securing  his  boat  on  the  lee  side  of  the 
wreck,  he  picked  his  way  among  the  obstacles  that  encumbered 
the  deck  to  the  officer's  cabin,  still  out  of  water.  The  storeroom 


CAPTAIN  STRONG'S  STORY.  49 

adjoining  was  locked,  but,  seizing  an  axe,  he  with  ready  hand 
beat  in  its  panels.  He  filled,  a  large  bag  with  biscuit,  happily 
uninjured,  and  dragged  it  to  the  side  and  placed  it  in  the  pinnace. 
Then  with  great  difficulty  he  got  a  small  water  cask  strapped 
down  under  the  thwarts,  and  filled  it  with  a  bucket,  pumping  the 
water  from  the  large  cask  that  was  securely  fastened  near  the 
after  hatchway.  This  took  half  a  dozen  journeys  from  his  boat  to 
the  cask.  He  took  a  pair  of  pistols  from  the  rack  in  the  cabini 
some  ammunition,  a  spy  glass,  the  ship's  compass,  a  pair  of  oars, 
and  then,  with  the  confident  courage  of  youth,  pushed  off,  spread 
ing  his  sail,  and  passing  the  headland,  steered  boldly  out  upon 
the  restless  ocean  with  a  mere  cockle  shell  for  a  ship.  As  he  sat 
in  the  stern  sheets,  munching  a  biscuit,  he  looked  back  at  the  long 
curve  of  the  bay,  and  to  the  spot  where  he  left  the  body  of  the 
captain,  and  saw  the  beach  swarming  with  black  savages! 

"  The  breeze  was  steady  and  favourable.  He  rounded  the  western 
cape,  and,  guided  by  his  general  nautical  experience,  he  set  his 
course  southwest,  vaguely  intending  to  land,  at  the  brig's  island  if 
he  could  find,  it,  and  if  not,  to  get  into  the  general  track  of  Aus 
tralian  liners.  When  the  night  came  on  the  breeze  died  away,  and 
he  took  down  his  mast,  and  securing  it  by  lashing  to  the  thwarts, 
he  stretched  himself  out  in  the  bottom  of  the  frail  boat,  rising  and 
falling  in  the  placid  swell  of  the  sea,  and  slept. 

"At  the  end  of  the  second  day  the  sun  went  down  in  a  bank  of 
cloud,  and  Elbert,  warned,  by  occasional  gusts  of  wind  from  the 
Avest,  shortened  his  sail  and  kept  awake,  running  as  close  to  the 
wind  as  possible.  By  midnight  he  was  obliged  to  take  his  mast 
down  and  keep  his  boat  across  the  waves  with  his  oars.  He 
estimated  his  distance  from  the  coast  at  about  a  hundred  miles,  as 
he  had  been  sailing  a  little  south  of  east  for  nearly  forty-eight 
hours.  But  he  could  not  estimate  the  eastward  drift  of  his  boat 
since  the  wind  had  changed,  and  he  waited  the  return  of  daylight 
with  great  anxiety.  Before  the  dawn  came  he  distinctly  heard 
the  roar  of  breakers,  and  with  manful  determination  he  pulled 
away  from  the  dreaded  sound.  The  rain  came  in  torrents  with 
the  returning  light,  and  then  he  could  dimly  see  the  rocky  coast, 
and  when  the  boat  rose  on  the  crest  of  a  wave  he  could  see  the 
line  of  white  water  stretching  away  to  the  south,  and  within  the 
quarter  of  a  mile  of  him.  He  knew  he  was  in  deadly  peril,  but 
his  pluck  did  not  desert  him,  and  he  drew  off  his  boots  and  pre 
pared  to  battle  with  the  angry  elements.  Suddenly,  with  a  hoarse 

4 


50  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

shout,  he  turned  his  boat's  prow  towards  the  shore  and  pulled 
through  a  rift  in  the  line  of  foam  into  smooth  water.  He  had 
recognized  the  island.  In  a  few  minutes  he  had  secured  the  boat, 
and  walking  up  the  rocky  path,  entered  the  hut  which  the  whole 
crew  had  vacated  a  week  before.  Here  was  rest,  security  and 
undisputed  dominion.  He  was  undoubted  monarch  of  all  he  sur 
veyed,  and  sole  heir  to  the  island  and  all  upon  it. 

"  Do  I  make  you  understand  the  situation  ?  A  few  words  will 
make  all  clear.  The  wreck  was  tenantless,  and  the  crew  had  cer 
tainly  taken  to  the  boats  before  the  brig  struck.  All  the  boats 
were  gone,  and  it  was  almost  certain  that  Butler  had  been  one  of 
the  crew  of  the  pinnace  which  had  escaped  destruction.  But 
there  was  hardly  the  ghost  of  a  chance  for  any  other  boat.  Elbert 
would  have  seen  them  if  they  had  entered  the  bay,  and  it  was  far 
more  probable  that  they  sought  the  island  when  they  aban 
doned  the  ship.  The  bay  was  a  mere  indentation  in  the  coast, 
affording  no  secure  anchorage  in  heavy  weather,  and  the  only 
chance  left  them  was  to  pull  away  to  the  east.  But  in  the  face  of 
the  storm  that  wrecked  their  ship  they  could  not  possibly  escape 
destruction.  They  were  dashed  to  pieces  upon  that  iron  coast,  and 
probably  the  captain  was  the  solitary  body  yielded  up  by  the 
.remorseless  sea.  All  of  this  was  perfectly  clear  to  Elbert  as  he 
lay  in  his  hammock  under  shelter,  while  the  rain  poured  down 
from  day  to  day.  The  hut  was  rudely  fashioned,  having  a  roof 
thickly  thatched  with  many  layers  of  broad  leaves  and  bits  of  old 
canvas,  and  water-tight  over  the  sleeping  quarter  where  hammocks 
were  suspended  when  the  island  was  inhabited.  Provisions  and 
stores  were  abundant,  gathered  from  many  luckless  vessels  that 
had  been  robbed  and  scuttled,  and  during  the  week  of  incessant 
rain  Elbert  cooked  his  meals  daily,  taking  such  variety  as  his 
stores  afforded.  In  the  intervals  he  smoked  and  reflected. 

"  The  island  was  nearly  circular,  rather  more  than  two  miles 
across.  Its  coast  was  rock  bound  and  inaccessible  on  all  sides 
excepting  the  narrow  opening  that  gave  egress  to  the  little  river. 
In  the  centre,  which  might  be  the  crater  of  an  extinct  volcano,  the 
land  was  higher  and  bare  of  vegetation.  From  the  highest 
point  the  entire  horizon  was  visible  over  the  tree  tops.  Here 
Elbert  repaired  every  day,  when  the  rain  was  over,  and  anxiously 
scanned  the  wide  expanse  of  waters,  hoping  to  see  a  passing  ship. 
But  none  ever  appeared.  The  island  was  distant  from  the  great 
ocean  highways.  His  only  hope  of  escape  was  by  the  pinnace, 


CAPTAIN  STRONG'S  STORY.  51 

which  was  a  large  boat,  entirely  seaworthy,  and  capable  of  carry 
ing  a  dozen  or  more.  It  is  very  probable  that  it  was  overladen 
when  the  brig  was  abandoned,  as  the  three  boats  would  not  con 
tain  the  numerous  crew,  except  by  close  packing,  and  it  WHS 
doubtless  capsized  in  the  storm.  The  other  boats  carried  no  sails, 
and  if  overcrowded,  would  hardly  live  a  minute  in  the  fierce  storm 
of  the  tropics. 

"  There  was  a  large  cavern  near  the  hut,  in  which  the  valuables 
belonging  to  the  crew  were  stored.  There  were  nearly  a  hundred 
wicker  baskets,  neatly  made,  each  bearing  the  name  of  the  owner. 
It  spoke  well  for  the  morals  of  this  community  of  outlaws  that 
there  were  no  locks  upon  any  of  these.  A  few  had  become  com 
mon  property  by  the  death  of  former  owners,  and  these  contain 
ed  undivided  spoils,  small  arms,  and  such  articles  of  value  as 
belonged  to  the  furniture  of  the  brig.  By  their  law  Elbert  was 
sole  owner  of  all  that  the  island  contained.  But  he  never  thought 
even  of  looking  into  the  baskets  bearing  the  names  of  his  late 
shipmates,  though  he  knew  there  was  enough  wealth  in  that  cave 
to  satisfy  the  most  extravagant  wants  he  could  ever  indulge. 
From  the  common  stock  he  took  freely  all  that  he  required. 

"The  pinnace  was  originally  schooner  rigged,  and  the  main-mast 
and  sail  were  on  the  island.  Elbert  devoted  many  days  to  the 
task  of  fitting  her  out  de  novo.  There  was  an  abundance  of  spare 
canvass  and  cordage  in  the  cavern,  and  by  contriving  a  system  of 
blocks  and  pulleys  lie  was  able  to  take  in  both  fore  and  mainsail 
from  his  place  in  the  stern.  The  jib  was  more  unmanageable, 
and  he  concluded  to  risk  this  sail,  which  was  under  his  control  in 
a  great  measure,  as  he  trailed  the  jib  sheets  also  to  the  stern. 
His  plan  was  to  carry  as  much  canvass  as  the  boat  would  bear,  to 
make  the  most  of  any  favourable  wind  he  might  have.  He  had  re 
solved  to  quit  the  island,  to  sail  to  the  southward,  and  failing  to 
find  a  ship,  to  get  round  the  south  western  cape  and  perhaps  to 
Adelaide  or  Melbourne. 

"  In  the  ten  years  he  had  spent  on  the  brig  or  the  island,  Elbert 
had  made  but  one  friendship,  and  that  was  scarcely  worthy  of  the 
name.  There  was  a  taciturn  Englishman,  who  was  called  Jack 
Schollard,  because  he  was  "fond  of  his  book,"  as  the  rough  sailors 
said.  He  talked  very  little,  and  read  incessantly  when  the  ship's 
duties  allowed  him  the  leisure.  As  a  fighter  he  was  the  most 
desperate  of  the  savages  around  him,  and  had  won  his  rank  of 
lieutenant  by  his  prowess.  The  kindness  he  showed  to  the  boy 


52  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

was  in  lending  him  books  and  explaining  difficulties  which  Elbert 
could  not  surmount  unaided.  He  spoke  most  modern  languages, 
and  sometimes  when  he  and  Elbert  were  alone  he  would  encourage 
him  to  resume  the  language  of  civilization  in  exchange  for  the 
slang  of  the  ship.  Once,  when  Jack  was  sick,  he  was  left  on  the 
island  while  the  brig  was  away  on  a  long  cruise,  and  Elbert  was 
left  with  him  to  attend  to  his  wants.  These  were  few  and  simple, 
but  as  his  eyes  were  diseased,  he  could  not  read,  and  he  kept  the 
youth  reading  aloud  to  him  day  after  day  for  several  months.  It 
was  a  mine  of  wealth  to  the  boy,  who  got  a  sort  of  education  by  a 
royal  road,  in  spite  of  the  proverb.  He  never  manifested  any 
emotion  whatever,  though  Elbert  once  and  again  expressed  his 
gratitude  to  Jack  for  allowing  him  to  remain  with  him,  and, 
indeed,  selecting  him  for  his  companion  on  several  occasions. 
Three  months  before  the  wreck  of  the  vessel  Jack  had  landed  in 
the  pinnace  at  the  very  spot  where  Elbert  and  the  captain  had 
parted  for  the  last  time.  They  had  brought  some  water  casks  to 
fill,  and  while  the  men  were  employed  at  this  work  Schollard  and 
Elbert  wandered  into  the  forest,  where  they  were  suddenly  attacked 
by  a  swarm  of  savages.  In  the  fight  Schollard  was  killed  and 
Elbert  wounded,  but  the  men  who  rushed  into  the  fray  found  him 
astride  the  body  of  the  lieutenant  fighting  his  maiden  battle, 
and  doing  a  man's  work.  The  natives  were  put  to  flight  and 
Elbert  carried  aboard  the  brig,  and  before  sunset  was  formally 
elected  lieutenant.  As  his  wounds  healed  he  quietly  resolved  to 
quit  the  ship  forever  at  the  first  opportunity.  He  did  quit,  as  I 
have  told  you,  and  thereby  saved  his  life. 

"The  only  excuse  I  offer  for  giving  this  incidental  bit  of  history 
is  my  desire  to  account  for  the  change  that  had  come  over  Elbert, 
transforming  him  from  boy  to  man.  It  was  a  great  shock  to  him 
to  lose  the  solitary  friend  he  had  in  the  world,  for  his  world  was 
the  hated  ship !  And  when  he  looked  over  the  book  basket  a  day 
or  two  before  he  left  the  island,  I  am  obliged  to  say  that  he 
dropped  some  tears  of  genuine  sorrow.  Poor  Jack !  What  horror 
was  in  his  earlier  history,  turning  the  cultivated  gentleman  into 
the  tiger,  no  man  knows!  Poor  Elbert!  The  fixed  purpose 'of 
his  soul,  when  he  was  left  by  Butler  on  that  savage  coast,  was  to 
find  the  bones  of  his  friend  and  bury  them ! 

"And  now  as  the  youth,  whose  lip  and  chin  were  covered  by  the 
silken  down  of  early  manhood,  steered  his  little  ship  between  the 
mimic  capes  of  his  harbor  and  out  upon  the  swelling  ocean,  he 


CAPTAIN  STRONG'S  STOEY.  53 

thought  he  cast  out  of  his  life  all  the  memories  of  his  bitter  past. 
He  had  ballasted  his  boat  with  enough  provision  to  suffice  him 
for  a  mouth  at  least,  and  with  a  fair  westerly  wind,  his  sail  close 
hauled,  he  sped  away  on  his  old  southwest  course.  He  was  steer 
ing  from  memory,  as  he  had  no  charts,  and  only  a  vague  idea  of 
the  trend  of  the  coast.  His  purpose  was  to  sail  as  steadily  as  the 
wind  would  allow  on  this  course  for  ten  days,  and  then  to  turn 
his  prow  eastward  and  seek  some  port  in  South  Australia.  He 
did  not  heed  the  truth  that  his  chances  were  as  one  in  a  hundred, 
and  that  a  very  moderate  storm  would  certainly  wreck  his  frail 
boat.  Oh,  the  blissful  confidence  of  youthful  ignorance !  How 
dire  the  loss,  when  this  is  exchanged  for  the  experience  of 
maturity ! 

"  I  can  hardly  tell  you  how  he  slept  or  how  the  time  passed  for 
six  days.  Sometimes  the  wind  died  away,  and  then  he  would 
lower  his  sails,  unstep  his  masts,  and  securing  them  as  well  as  he 
could,  would  sleep,  sheltering  himself  from  the  sun  by  an  awning 
he  had  made  while  on  the  island.  Such  a  calm  found  him  on  the 
sixth  day,  after  twenty  hours  of  steady  progress,  and  he  stretched 
himself  out  about  noon  and  fell  asleep.  He  was  wakened  by  the 
whistling  of  the  wind  as  it  tore  his  awning  out  of  its  fastenings, 
and  blew  it  away  to  leeward.  He  lay  stupidly  gazing  up  at  the 
sky,  sparkling  with  a  million  stars,  until,  recognizing  his  peril, 
he  seized  the  helm  and  with  a  sailor's  instinct  tried  to  bring  his 
boat  head  to  wind.  In  vain !  The  boat  shipped  a  sea  as  she 
rolled  in  the  trough  and  then  turned  slowly  over.  He  clung  to 
her  side,  and  as  she  half  righted,  rising  upon  the  crest  of  the 
wave,  he  almost  lost  his  hold.  But  he  was  again  in  the  trough  in 
a  moment,  and  managed  to  get  into  the  boat,  which  was  full  of 
water.  As  he  mounted  the  next  wave  there  was  nothing  above 
the  surface  for  the  wind  to  catch,  and  he  was  tolerably  safe.  And 
so  he  rode  out  the  storm,  which  was  only  a  transient  gust,  and 
when  the  sun  rose  the  sea  had  almost  gone  down  again.  Every 
thing  was  lost  from  the  boat,  oars — sails  and  provisions — and  she 
was  no  better  than  so  much  lumber,  buoyant  enough  to  keep  him 
on  the  surface,  but  utterly  worthless  for  all  else. 

"  I  canuot  tell  you  coherently  what  happened  next.  The  sun 
beat  pitilessly  upon  him  throughout  that  seventh  day,  and  when 
the  night  brought  out  the  magnificent  constellation  of  the  southern 
cross,  with  the  myriads  of  brilliant  stars  that  seemed  to  whisper 
hope  to  him,  he  was  almost  past  the  reach  of  hope.  When  the 


54  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

day  came  again  he  was  only  partly  conscious  of  the  burning  sun, 
and  then  all  was  night.  Hungry,  thirsty,  weary  and  disheartened, 
his  last  thought  was  that  the  death  so  swiftly  approaching  was 
the  truest  friend  he  had  ever  known ! 

"  As  his  senses  returned  he  was  bewildered  by  the  uproar  around 
him.  He  was  lying  in  a  bunk,  in  his  clothes,  still  wet,  and  a  man 
was  leaning  over  him,  trickling  brandy  into  his  mouth  with  a 
spoon.  He  saw  a  good-natured  face  kindling  in  a  smile  as  he 
opened  his  eyes. 

"  Ah !"  said  the  man,  "  we  are  coming  round  again !  Keep 
quiet  now,  and  swallow  just  two  more  spoonfuls.  So!  now,  if 

you  want  to  sleep  again but  stop !  Here,  cook !  bring  a  basin 

of  that  soup.  Can  you  take  a  little  soup  ?  I  thought  so !  How 
long  have  you  fasted  1  Never  mind !  You  will  be  all  right  by 
daylight.  More  soup  I  Well,  cook,  give  him  another  basin  and 
no  more,  and  don't  let  him  talk  till  I  come  back.  Not  a  word !" 

"  Accordingly,  as  the  little  doctor  bustled  away,  the  first  word  of 
the  cook,  who  was  a  fat  Irishwoman,  was — 

"How  did  ye  get  drownded,  darliutP 

"  What  ship  is  this "?"  answered  Elbert , 

"The  Bellony,  darlint;  how  did  ye " 

"  Where  are  we  P 

"In  port.  Port  Philip.  The  divils  are  all  gone  crazy  about 
the  gowld !" 

"  What  gold  f ' 

"  Sure,  thin,  ye  don't  live  about  here !  Why,  the  gowld  they 
are  picking  up  out  of  the  dirt  beyant  Melbourne.  All  the  pas 
sengers  and  most  of  the  crew  are  off,  and  the  rest  are  goin' " 

"  How  came  I  here  P 

"  WTe  picked  you  up  this  eveniu',  just  out  here  in  the  bay.  You 
was  floatin'  on  a  bit  of  a  boat  in  a  dead  faint.  The  ship  was  nigh 
runniu'  you  down,  when  one  of  the  b'ys  see'd  yees.  It  was  Pat 
forninst  ye  there.  The  docthor  has  been  workiu'  wid  you  these 
three  hours.  Ah !  whist !  here  he  comes !"  and  then  with  an 
affectionate  whine  she  continued,  "  ye  must  just  mind  the 
docthor,  darliiit,  an'  keep  quite  !  He'll  tell  you  everything  in  the 
inorn' !" 

"  The  doctor  felt  his  pulse,  which  was  beating  with  healthful 
vigour  under  his  fingers,  held  the  light  up  to  see  his  pallid  cheeks 
regaining  their  colour,  as  the  soup  and  the  brandy  and  the  assur 
ance  of  safety  all  combined  to  work  the  rapid  cure. 


CAPTAIN  STRONG'S  STORY,  55 

"  I  was  capsized  in  a  sudden  squall  last  night  or  two  nights 


ago.    I  don't  know  which " 

"  All  right,  my  lad !"  interrupted  the  doctor.  "  You  must 
positively  go  to  sleep  now  and  you  can  tell  your  story  in  the 
morning.  Promise  me  tluit  you  will  not  talk  any  more  until  day 
light." 

"  I  promise,  doctor.    But  please  give  me  a  little  more  soup." 

"  Not  a  taste !  You  are  getting  along  famously  now.  You 
shall  have  a  good  breakfast  by  daylight.  Go  to  sleep !"  and  he 
clambered  up  the  staircase  to  the  deck.  Elbert  turned  on  his 
side  obediently,  but  was  instantly  pounced  upon  by  the  old 
woman  as  soon  as  the  doctor's  back  was  turned. 

"  I've  brought  you  a  dhrop  more  of  the  soup,  darlint,"  she  said 
as  she  handed  him  a  basin,  holding  about  half  a  gallon.  "The 
docthor  is  very  good  at  say ;  but  we  are  so  near  the  shore  now — 
Holy  saints!  How  the  boy  does  ate!  How  long  have  ye  starved, 
darliut  ?" 

"  Elbert  worked  away  steadfastly  until  the  basin  was  empty,  and 
then  handing  it  back  to  the  old  woman,  he  pressed  his  finger  on 
his  lip  and  pointed  to  the  staircase.  In  another  minute  he  was 
peacefully  sleeping,  while  the  ship  was  warped  into  her  dock. 

"  By  the  first  gray  light  of  the  dawn  he  examined  his  belt  and 
found  his  money  intact.  He  rose  from  his  bunk,  and,  gaining  the 
deck,  found  the  sailors  gathered  in  knots  eagerly  discussing  some 
subject  of  universal  interest.  The  Hibernian  who  had  been  point 
ed  out  to  him  as  the  man  who  pulled  him  out  of  the  water  beck 
oned  him  to  his  side. 

"  Do  ye  know  where  the  gowld  counthry  is?"  was  his  eager  ques 
tion. 

"  No.     I  am  a  stranger." 

"  There's  a  dozen  of  us,  all  handy  boys,  who  are  going  to  look 
for  the  diggin's.  Will  you  go  along  wid  us  F 

u  Yes.    When  do  you  start  P 

"  As  soon  as  we  get  our  wages.  The}'  are  buzzin'  about  it  now 
in  the  cabin.  The  captain  don't  want  us  to  lave,  but  our  bargain 
is  out  when  the  ship  is  docked,  and  that's  now.  Half  the  boys 
have  gone  without  their  wages." 

"  Can  I  go  ashore  F 

"  Sure  ye  can  go  when  ye  plaze.  There's  the  shore  and  there's 
the  gangway." 

"  Amid  the  confusion  Elbert  quietly  walked  ashore.    His  sailor 


56  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

dress  was  bis  passport.  He  joined  a  gang  of  half  a  dozen  at  tLe 
head  of  the  pier  and  passed  from  the  view  of  all  who  knew  any 
thing-  of  his  previous  history.  Three  days  later  he  was  at  the 
gold  diggings  beginning  a  new  life.  And  that  is  the  end  of  my 
story,  and  with  your  permission  I'll  try  for  some  sleep." 

As  Mr.  Barston  rose  he  turned  his  haggard  face  to  the  light 
that  was  swinging  at  the  head  of  the  cabin  stairway.  Old  Mr. 
Jones  supported  him.  He  stopped  at  the  door  of  my  state-room 
as  the  ship  lurched,  and  a  great  wave  came  aboard  and  went  hiss 
ing  astern.  Mr.  Barstou  fumbled  in  his  bosom  and  drew  out  a  lit 
tle  box,  which  he  opened,  and  taking  out  a  large  necklace  he  threw 
the  box  on  the  deck.  Mr.  Jones  picked  it  up,  and  then  clutched 
Mr.  Barston's  arm  again.  He  seemed  to  have  a  fit  of  horrors  as 
he  rattled  the  jewels  in  his  hand. 

"  Do  you  know,"  he  said  hoarsely,  "do  you  know  that  I  am  mad 
enough  to  believe  that  this  accursed  bauble  is  the  cause  of  all  my 
trouble!  Ic  has  been  hidden  in  my  bosom  for  seven  dreary  years. 
In  all  that  time,  which  seems  like  seven  ages,  my  only  solace  has 
been  drink.  And  no\v,  as  I  feel  the  old  fit  coming  upon  me,  I  have 
enough  manhood  left  to  tear  away  this  infernal  chain  at  least.  Lo ! 
avaunt !  and  quit  my  sight !" 

As  he  spoke  he  cast  the  necklace  over  the  side.  A  mountain  of 
dark  water  received  it,  sparkling  like  a  hundred  glow-worms  as  it 
disappeared.  With  a  horrid  laugh  he  threw  himself  on  the  deck, 
his  body  quivering  in  convulsions.  Mr.  Jones  knelt  by  him,  loosen 
ed  his  neckcloth,  and  raised  his  head  and  shoulders  with  the 
strength  of  a  giant. 

"  Take  his  legs,  captain,  please,"  said  the  old  man,  composedly, 
"and  let  us  get  him  quietly  to  his  berth." 

"  My  dear  sir,  let  me  call  the  steward.  You  can  never  carry 
him." 

"  But  I  can,  captain,"  replied  the  old  gentleman.  "  We  don't 
want  any  steward.  He  is  quite  light.  Come  on !" 

That  Mr.  Jones  must  have  been  a  stunner  in  his  youth.  He 
tripped  lightly  down  the  staircase  and  through  the  passage  way, 
carrying  more  than  half  of  our  unconscious  burden.  When  we 
reached  Mr.  Barston's  room,  Mr.  Jones  coolly  pushed  the  door  open 
and  we  laid  him  down  on  the  sofa.  His  poor  wife  was  huddled 
up  in  a  corner,  and  to  my  astonishment  little  Johnny  was  in  her 
arms.  He  was  in  his  night  dress  and  looked  just  like  a  little  girl. 
His  eyes  were  something  smaller  than  saucers. 


CAPTAIN  STRONG'S  STORY.  57 

"  I  heard  her  crying,  papa,"  said  he,  as  his  father  looked  in 
mute  amazement  at  them,  "and  I  heard  her  calling  me.  She  woke 
me  up,  crying  and  calling  me,  and  I  had  to  come." 

"  You  did  right,  my  darling,"  answered  his  father,  "  but  HI  take 
you  back  to  bed  now." 

"  Oh,  please  don't  take  the  child  from  me,"  said  Mrs.  Barston, 
moaning  pitifully.  "Let  her  stay  with  me  to-night."  The  poor 
woman  evidently  thought  Johnny  was  a  girl,  and  old  Mr.  Jones 
humoured  her. 

"  You  shall  have  her  again  to-morrow,"  he  replied,  as  he  took 
Johnny  in  his  arms,  "that  is  if  you  are  discreet.  But  now  your 
husband  needs  attention.  The  captain  will  send  the  doctor  to  see 
him.  Good  night." 

"  Let  me  .kiss  her,  papa,"  said  Johnny.  Mr.  Jones  held  the  little 
fellow  down  to  her  and  he  kissed  her  tenderly,  patting  her  cheek 
with  his  little  hands. 

"  Heaven  bless  you,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Barston,  as  he  left.  "  I  will 
do  whatever  you  tell  me." 

The  next  morning  the  storm  had  abated,  and  I  put  the  ship  about 
and  ran  for  Queenstown.  As  the  sun  rose  we  sighted  Cape  Clear. 
I  announced  to  the  passengers  that  we  should  be  in  Cork  harbour 
in  the  course  of  the  day,  and  most  of  them  got  on  deck.  Mrs. 
Barston  was  like  another  woman  as  she  sat  on  the  lee  side  of  the 
stairway,  with  little  Johnny  cuddled  up  on  her  lap.  The  boy  was 
bold  as  brass  and  seemed  very  fond  of  her.  Mr.  Barston  was 
doing  well,  but  the  doctor  kept  him  in  his  state-room.  Old  Mr. 
Jones  was  extremely  attentive  to  Mrs.  Barston,  who  seemed  to  re 
gard  him  with  a  sort  of  reverence.  They  spent  an  hour  or  more 
in  very  earnest  conversation,  and  when  the  tender  left  us  at  Cork 
Mr.  Jones  and  the  boy  went  off  in  her.  He  said  he  would  catch 
the  night  boat  for  Holyhead  and  be  in  London  the  next  morning. 
The  sight  of  land  appeared  to  make  him  young  again,  and  he 
skipped  about  as  lively  as  a  kitten.  As  the  tender  steamed  away 
he  was  holding  the  boy  in  his  arms,  who  was  kissing  his  chubby 
hands  to  Mrs.  Barston,  while  Mr.  Jones  was  singing,  as  loud  as  he 
could, 

u  A  wet  sheet  and  a  flowing  sea, 
And  a  wind  that  follows  fast." 

He  sang  elegantly  too. 


58  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

CHAPTEE    VI. 

THE  LADIES. 

IF  the  gentle  reader  has  read  all  the  foregoing,  he  or  she  ought  to 
be  tolerably  well  acquainted  with  the  most  of  the  personages 
that  figure  in  this  story.  It  will  be  necessary  to  introduce  him  or  her 
to  two  or  three  others,  who  thus  far  have  been  only  incidentally 
mentioned,  and  to  bring  them  more  prominently  into  the  narrative. 
Hitherto  the  author  has  been  obliged  to  allow  the  characters  to  do 
their  own  talking,  and  he  has  discovered  that  this  is  a  very  unsafe 
procedure,  inasmuch  as  they  rarety  know  when  to  stop..  It  is  a  re 
markable  fact,  probably  known  only  to  authors,  that  these  fictitious 
people  are  really  more  unmanageable  than  real  people.  You  can 
not  snub  them.  You  cannot  change  the  subject.  You  cannot 
walk  off  and  leave  them.  They  will  talk.  The  author  fondly  hopes 
that  the  change  will  be  acceptable  to  the  gentle  reader,  who  is 
probably  a  lady,  and  therefore  antagonistic  to  talkers  on  prin 
ciple. 

It  is  also  requisite  that  the  reader,  fair  as  well  as  gentle,  should 
go  back  some  six  or  seven  years.  It  is  a  comfort  to  know  that  this 
also  will  be  easily  done,  as  the  honoured  sex,  of  which  she  is  an 
ornament,  proverbially  manages  this  chronological  feat  with  great 
facility.  In  fact,  the  author  distinctly  remembers  several  ladies, 
who  were  well  grown  girls  forty  years  ago,  who  are  somewhere 
in  the  thirties  to-day. 

The  time,  then,  some  few  years  before  the  events  recounted  in  the 
preceding  pages.  The  place,  the  fairest  portion  of  the  earth's  sur 
face — Devonshire — five  miles  from  Exeter,  the  village  of  Laving- 
ton,  always  thriving  and  always  pretty,  with  the  spire  of  the  church 
at  the  south  end,  and  the  gray  tower  of  Morton  Priory  peeping 
above  the  green  trees  of  the  park  at  the  north.  You  can  just  see 
the  flag  on  the  tower,  hoisted  to  indicate  that  Lord  Morton  is 
there.  During  a  large  part  of  the  year  he  resides  upon  another 
estate  in  Essex,  for  he  is  a  working  member  of  the  Upper  House,  and 
one  of  his  sons,  Mr.  Allan  Harwood,  is  the  member  for  Laviiigton 
in  the  House  of  Commons.  But  this  is  the  season  when  London 
is  deserted,  depopulated — a  barren  wilderness  of  houses,  with  only 
a  million  or  two  of  its  population  left. 


THE  LADIES.  59 

If  you  will  enter  the  lodge  gates  and  walk  through  the  park 
you  will  be  charmed  with  its  beauty.  The  carriage  road  follows 
the  windings  of  a  little  stream,  a  branch  of  the  Esk,  until  you 
reach  the  rising  ground  upon  which  the  house  is  built.  You  Avill 
have  to  go  around  to  the  western  side,  where  the  ladies  are  upon 
the  terrace.  There  are  three  of  them,  and  with  honest  trepidation 
the  author  begins  the  hardest  part  of  this  true  history — the  de 
scription  of  the  sovereign  rulers  of  humanity. 

Lady  Morton  sits  in  the  American  rocking  chair  near  the  bay 
window.  No  fairer  specimen  of  womankind  can  be  found  in  Her 
Majesty's  dominions.  The  bloom  of  youth  is  not  lost  but 
developed  into  the  maturity  of  the  matron.  All  that  was  lovely 
in  her  beautiful  girlhood  has  ripened  into  surpassing  loveliness  at 
her  third  climacteric,  to  which  she  has  now  attained.  Those 
honest,  bright  brown  eyes,  looking  into  yours  with  fearless 
majesty,  are  the  windows  through  which  you  catch  a  glimpse  of 
the  pure  woman's  soul,  full  of  gentleness  and  truth.  That  broad 
brow,  so  calm  and  smooth,  without  the  wrinkles  that  care  brings, 
or  the  furrows  that  sorrow  ploughs,  betokens  the  royalty  of  the 
wife  and  mother,  whose  lightest  wish  is  the  undisputed  law  of  her 
realm.  There  is  a  fine  curve  in  her  nostril,  and  a  quiet  firmness 
in  the  lines  of  her  mouth,  that  indicate  the  possession  of  a  decided 
character,  yet  give  no  sign  of  strong-mindedness.  You  would  not 
think  of  her  as  taking  part  in  wordy  contests  Her  countenance 
gives  no  such  intimation.  Over  all,  like  a  veil,  there  is  an  expres 
sion  of  sobriety,  which  has  been  wrought  by  experiences  through 
which  her  heart  and  her  head  reached  maturity  many  years  agoue. 
Placid,  wise  and  good — too  proud  to  be  haughty,  and  adorned 
with  too  true  a  humility  to  be  servile,  she  is  to  her  children  the 
ultimate  authority  in  all  questions  of  taste,  of  propriety,  of  morals; 
and  to  her  lord,  the  light  of  his  eyes  and  the  pulses  of  his  heart. 

Her  daughter,  Ket  Harwood,  who  sits  near  her  in  the  window 
seat,  may  be  described  in  the  same  words — if  you  deduct  thirty 
years  and  their  experiences.  The  likeness  betwixt  those  two  fair 
women  is  very  remarkable.  The  golden  tints  in  the  hair  of  the 
younger  have  ripened  into  minute  threads  of  silver  in  the  elder. 
But  you  see  the  same  calm  eyes,  gentle  and  true,  in  both. 

Do  you  expect  any  description  of  their  dresses?  If  so,  you  are 
doomed  to  disappointment.  No  masculine  reader  would  know 
anything  about  it,  be  the  description  never  so  elaborate,  and  the 
ladies  would  probably  be  shocked  at  the  horrid  taste  displayed  if 


60  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

they  conld  see  the  attire  of  those  who  dressed  in  a  fashion  now  ten 
years  old.  Moreover,  the  author  is  lamentably  ignorant  on  this 
general  subject,  and  would  be  certain  to  commit  some  atrocious 
blunder  if  he  essayed  such  a  description. 

The  third  lady  is  something  under  twenty.  She  has  blue  eyes,  a 
profusion  of  light  yellow  curls,  like  floss  silk,  floating  over  white 
shoulders  and  neck.  No  signs  of  sobriety  here.  She  has  two 
rows  of  pearls  that  are  perpetually  visible,  when  she  smiles  or 
talks,  which  is  all  the  time.  This  is  Miss  Clare  Tamworth.  She 
is  an  heiress,  an  orphan,  a  Lady-Bountiful  at  her  own  home  near 
Clifton,  a  harmless  little  flirt,  who  has  never  allowed  any  of  her 
numerous  victims  to  fall  deeply  in  love  with  her.  She  has  no 
faculty  for  sentimental  love  making,  and  woe  to  the  wretched 
wight  who  attempts  sentimental  dialogues  with  her  for  interlocu 
tor  !  The  men  who  have  deliberately  set  themselves  to  win  this 
fair  prize  have  never  progressed  beyond  a  sigh  or  two.  She  con 
tradicts  all  established  theories.  The  ready  tears  spring  from  her 
gentle  eyes  at  the  recital  of  a  story  of  sorrow  or  suffering,  but  if 
the  raconteur  should  attempt  to  slip  in  a  love  plea  while  her  heart 
was  thus  softened,  he  would  be  astounded  at  the  readiness  with 
which  the  sympathizing  tears  gave  place  to  merriment  and 
mockery.  The  unanimous  verdict  of  the  men  -who  sought  her 
favour  was  that  she  was  utterly  heartless.  And,  like  many  other 
unanimous  verdicts,  it  was  false.  Hitherto  the  right  man  had 
not  come.  Woe  to  the  man  who  should  really  love  her  and  love 
in  vain !  Happy  the  man  who  should  so  love  her  as  to  compel  a 
reciprocal  passion!  As  she  stood  at  the  edge  of  the  terrace, 
twining  a  clematis  vine  over  its  frame,  she  looked  like  a  fairy,  free 
from  care,  and  taking  all  the  enjoyment  life  afforded,  as  the  hum 
ming  bird  takes  its  sustenance  from  the  free  flowers  that  adorn 
the  earth. 

"  Come  sit  by  me,  Clare,"  said  Lady  Morton,  "  we  must  arrange 
the  programme  for  the  week." 

"  It  is  all  arranged,  my  lady,"  replied  Clare.  "  Eet  and  I  made 
it  up  last  night." 

"  Subject  to  your  approval,  mother,"  said  Eet. 

"  Let  me  know  what  your  two  wise  heads  have  planned.  I  re 
serve  the  right  to  amend  your  plans,  remember." 

"  First,  then,"  said  Miss  Tamworth,  seating  herself  as  directed, 
"  to-morrow  is  devoted  to  the  Eed  Hall.  This  is  by  special  invita 
tion  from  Sir  John,  and  your  veto  will  not  apply  here,  as  your 


THE  LADIES.  61 

lord  and  master  has  accepted  '  for  self  and  friends.'    We  are  to 
lunch  there  at  one." 

"  That  disposes  of  to-morrow,"  answered  Lady  Morton,  "  as  the 
gentlemen  return  here  to  dinner.  Have  you  arranged  the  mode  of 
conveyance  f ' 

"  Yes.  You  and  Eet  are  to  go  with  Lord  Morton  and  the  rec 
tor  in  that  old  stuffy  coach.  I  am  to  go  on  horseback,  escorted 
by  Sir  John.  We  are  to  flirt  all  the  way  to  the  Hall  and  back. 
Sir  John  is  to  take  you  down  to  dinner,  of  course,  and  he  is  to  flirt 
with  Eet  during  the  evening,  while  I  try  to  enslave  the  rector." 

"  I  wisli  you  success,  my  dear.  But  John  is  almost  as  impene 
trable  as  yourself." 

"  And  that  is  the  very  reason  why  I  should  assault  him !  Be 
sides,  he  is  quite  passably  handsome.  I  noticed  his  whiskers  in 
church  yesterday.  They  are  positively  elegant !" 

"  For  shame,  Clare !" 

"That  is  quite  en  regie,  mother,"  said  Eet  mischievously. 
"  You  know  that  the  chief  glory  of  episcopacy  consists  in  freedom 
from  those  little  restraints  which  dissenters  practice." 

"  I'll  tell  the  rector  that  speech,  Miss  Eet !" 

"  Very  well.  But  it  will  accomplish  nothing.  We  have  a  com 
pact,  Johnny  and  I,  by  which  I  am  a  dissenter  at  Harwood  House 
and  a  churchwoman  at  Lavington.  I  made  this  agreement  to 
avoid  scandalizing  his  flock." 

"  What  are  we  to  do  on  Wednesday,  girls'?"  said  Lady  Morton. 

"  Clare  says  she  is  dying  for  the  sea-coast,  mother,"  answered 
Miss  Harwood,  "and  we  thought,  if  you  approved,  we  would 
make  up  a  party  to  the  Smuggler's  Cave." 

"  That  involves  a  drive  of  forty  miles." 

"  Only  nineteen,  mother " 

"  And  nineteen  to  return." 

"  But  you  cannot  count  the  return  journey,  my  lady,"  said  Miss 
Tain  worth.  "  If  we  get  there  we  are  obliged  to  come  home  again. 
The  rector  says  we  can  gather  multitudes  of  shells,  and  the  cave 
is  a  great  curiosity." 

11  We  will  decide  about  the  sea-coast  later.  What  have  you  for 
Thursday  F 

"  We  leave  that  to  you,  madame,"  answered  Clare. 

"  Why,  Clare !"  said  Eet,  "you  know  we  had  decided  to  ride  to 
Oakland." 

"  Did  we?"  said  Miss  Tarn  worth.  "  Well,  we  must  wait  for  the 
invitation,  I  suppose.  My  programme  ends  with  Wednesday." 


62  TEE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Mr.  Barston  is  to  come  on  Saturday,"  observed  Lady  Morton. 
"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  get  an  invitation  in  the  meantime." 

"We  might  meet  Mr.  Barston,"  said  Clare,  blushing  a  little  J 
"  and  we  saw  him  in  London,  you  know " 

"  Well !"  said  Lady  Morton,  amused. 

"  Well,  ma'am,  he  invited  us  to  Oakland  then — that  is,  he  gave 
a  general  invitation.  The  rector  says  it  is  the  prettiest  place  in 
Devonshire." 

"  It  is  very  pretty,"  answered  Lady  Morton.  "  I  have  not  been 
there  since  Mr.  Barston  died.  Lacy  was  a  mere  youth  then.  He 
and  John  were  at  Oxford,  and  I  have  hardly  seen  him  since. 
I  doubt  if  I  should  have  known  him  with  his  great  beard  if  I  had 
not  expected  him  and  looked  out  for  him.  But  one  could  not  be 
mistaken  in  his  kind  eyes  who  had  ever  looked  into  them." 

"  Sir  John  says  he  is  a  regular  muff,"  said  Clare. 

"  Johnny  says  he  is  a  regular  Methodist,"  said  Ret. 

"  Your  father  says  he  is  a  spotless  gentleman,"  said  her  mother. 

"  Of  course !"  replied  both  young  ladies  in  a  breath. 

"  You  must  remember,  girls,  that  he  is  not  very  rich " 

11  And  take  care  not  to  fall  in  love " 

"  Be  quiet,  Clare !  you  know  that  was  not  my  meaning.  I  only 
desired  to  remind  you  that  you  cannot  expect  Oakland  to  be  very 
elaborately  furnished.  One  of  his  quaint  sayings  is,  'that  going 
in  debt  is  first  cousin  to  stealing,'  and  he  says  he  has  never  owed 
any  man  anything,  and  never  will.  Since  he  came  of  age  he  mor 
tally  otfended  a  rich  old  cousin  by  refusing  a  loan  from  him.  The 
old  gentleman  wished  the  house  repaired  and  modernized,  and 
offered  to  advance  the  necessary  funds.  He  was  not  entirely  dis 
interested,  as  he  is  Lacy's  heir-at-law.  But  the  boy  stoutly  re 
fused  to  accept  the  money,  saying  he  was  free  born  and  would 
not  become  any  man's  servant  by  borrowing.  The  cousin  then 
proposed  to  give  him  the  money,  or  at  least  to  require  no  security. 
But  Lacy  declined,  saying  a  gift  involved  an  obligation  only 
more  intolerable  than  a  loan." 

The  girls  listened  with  great  attention  to  this  story.  Clare  said 
nothing,  but  Eet  after  a  little  pause  said, 

"  I  think  he  did  right,  mother." 

"  Certainly,  my  dear." 

"  Captain  Callahan  tells  a  queer  story  about  him,  too,"  said 
Clare.  "  He  says  they  were  in  Paris  together  a  few  mouths  ago, 
and  Sir  John  got  involved  in  a  quarrel  with  a  Frenchman,  who 


THE  LADIES.  63 

challenged  him.  Sir  John  referred  the  Frenchman  s  second  to  Mr. 
Barston,  who  was  the  only  countryman  he  knew.  They  were  at 
the  opera,  and  on  the  way  to  the  hotel  Mr.  Barston  recognized  the 
gentleman  who  presented  the  cartel,  and  after  the  polite  formali 
ties  with  which  those  horrid  men  preface  a  meeting  for  murder, 
Mr.  Barston  asked  him  some  questions  about  Sebastopol.  You 
know  he  was  there  during  the  war.  The  other — he  was  a  Captain 
Dutilh — soon  became  interested  and  told  of  a  hair-breadth  escape 
both  he  and  his  "  principal,"  Sir  John's  antagonist,  had  made  in 
the  trenches.  They  were  both  wounded,  and  their  men  had  been 
driven  out  by  the  Russians,  and  while  they  were  under  a  heavy 
fire  'some  Englishman'  had  carried  them,  one  at  a  time,  beyond 
the  reach  of  bullets.  They  said  they  certainly  i  owed  their  lives 
to  him;'  whereupon  Mr.  Barston  mentioned  some  circumstance 
that  proved  himself  the  deliverer,  and  then  very  quietly  said  he 
would  '  take  the  settlement  now.'  And  the  result  was  the  with 
drawal  of  the  challenge  and  an  interchange  of  explanations.  The 
curious  part  of  the  story  was  the  literal  acceptance  by  Mr.  Barston 
of  the  Frenchman's  professions.  Captain  Callahau  says  he  coolly 
told  Dutilh  that,  having  the  choice  of  weapons,  he  should  choose 
cavalry  sabres,  and  Sir  John  being  invincible  with  that  weapon, 
would  kill  his  friend,  whose  life  belonged  to  Mm,  Barston,  and 
therefore  the  foolish  quarrel  must  be  made  up." 

a  Johnny  told  me  about  that,  mother,"  said  Eet.  "  He  says  Mr. 
Barston  never  intended  to  let  them  fight  at  all.  He  had  concocted 
some  wild  scheme  to  stop  the  duel  when  his  recognition  of  Cap 
tain  Dutilh  suggested  the  other  plan." 

"  Your  father  has  had  charge  of  both  these  young  gentlemen 
since  the  death  of  Mr.  Barston's  father,  and  he  has  frequently  told 
me  of  Mr.  Lacy  Barston's  eccentricities,  as  he  calls  them.  I  have 
seen  very  little  of  him  since  his  boyhood,  but  he  is  a  prime  favourite 
of  mine  in  spite  of  his  pranks.  He  was  a  terrible  young  rascal  in 
his  boyish  days." 

"  He  is  tolerably  given  to  tricks  still,"  observed  Miss  Tarn  worth. 
"  I  have  heard  of  some  recent  escapades  of  his,  in  which  his  bosom 
friend,  Sir  John,  participated;  but  I  have  never  heard  of  any 
harm  following  his  practical  jokes." 

"  Sir  John  has  improved  vastly  since  they  were  schoolmates  of 
my  boys.  He  was  passionate  and  quarrelsome,  and  his  cousin, 
Barston,  was  perpetually  getting  him  out  of  scrapes.  Lord  Mor 
ton  was  present  when  old  Mr.  Barston  died,  and  heard  him  give  a 


64  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

solemn  charge  to  his  son  to  take  special  care  of  his  cousin. 
1  While  he  lives,  my  son,'  he  said,  '  remember  that  he  is  your 
mother's  kinsman,  and  as  you  revere  her  memory,  be  father, 
brother  and  friend  to  John  Lacy.'  The  quaint  manner  in  which 
young  Barston  has  fulfilled  this  obligation  has  amused  your  father 
many  times,  but  he  tells  me  that  he  has  faithfully  and  effectually 
performed  his  duty  in  this  matter." 

"  I  suppose  the  baronet  is  out  of  leading-strings  by  this  time," 
said  Miss  Harwood. 

"  He  never  knew  that  he  was  led,  I  fancy,"  replied  Lady  Mor 
ton;  "but  he  has  always  been  disposed  to  rely  upon  Barston  in 
any  emergency." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  GENTLEMEN. 

IK  the  village  of  Lavington  the  most  attractive  and  most  com 
fortable  house  is  the  rectory.  It  was  built  by  Lord  Morton 
very  soon  after  his  inheritance  of  the  barony.  He  demolished  two 
or  three  cottages  to  make  room  for  the  garden  and  lawn,  and  the 
young  trees  he  had  planted  here  are  grown  to  a  good  size.  It 
stands  near  the  church,  whose  stately  spire,  at  the  south  end  of 
the  town,  faces  the  gray  tower  of  Morton  Priory  at  the  north. 
There  is  a  modest  chapel,  held  by  dissenters,  midway  the  main 
street,  and  this  also  was  the  gift  of  the  lord  of  the  soil,  who  is 
himself  a  dissenter,  though  the  family  attend  the  church  when 
they  are  in  Devonshire.  It  is  a  noteworthy  fact  also  that  the 
rector  and  the  Presbyterian  minister  are  close  friends,  which  is 
not  often  the  case  in  English  towns,  m ore's  the  pity. 

The  rector's  library  was  lighted  by  one  large  bay  window  open 
ing  upon  the  lawn,  and  here  were  gathered  four  gentlemen,  indus 
triously  filling  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  room  with  tobacco 
smoke.  It  was  a  little  past  noon,  and  the  debris  of  luncheon 
encumbered  the  table  behind  them,  as  the}'  had  drawn  their  chairs 
to  the  open  window,  and  gazed  lazily  out  upon  the  green  lawn 
while  they  enjoyed  their  cigars. 

Peering  through  the  smoke,  you  may  see  the  handsome  face  of 
Lord  Morton,  so  much  more  handsome  than  any  of  the  others,  as 


TEE  GENTLEMEN.  65 

experience,  and  gravity  that  grows  out  of  experience,  and  the  sense 
of  responsibility  and  fixity  of  purpose,  the  result  of  laborious 
thought  and  kindly  interest  i :  humankind  beautify  the  counte 
nance.  These  overbalanced  the  fancied  advantages  of  lightly  bur 
dened  youth.  His  long  brown  whiskers  have  sundry  silver  threads 
in  them  which  are  positive  adornments.  His  bold  gray  eyes,  full  of 
truth  and  kindness,  twinkle  like  stars  at  small  provocation,  be 
cause  he  carries  in  his  bosom  a  perennial  fountain  of  humour, 
which  he  perpetually  labours  to  smother,  and  perpetually  fails  to 
do  it.  He  must  keep  up  the  dignity  of  the  statesman  and  legis 
lator.  His  joyous  holidays  are  the  days  he  spends  in  company 
with  his  wife  and  children  at  Morton  Priory,  where  he  gets  rid  of 
a  volume  of  jokes  accumulated  in  previous  months  of  repression. 
He  attained  manhood  in  early  youth  by  brave  endurance  of  deep 
heart  sorrows,  and  his  subsequent  life  has  been  passed  in  sunlight. 
No  one  of  his  four  children  has  the  remotest  touch  of  jealousy  of 
any  of  the  others,  and  his  friendship,  over  and  above  his  fatherly 
love  for  them,  is  their  dearest  inheritance. 

The  rector,  or  "  Parson  Johnny,"  as  he  is  universally  called  by 
his  kindred — the  name  being  given  him  by  his  father  when  he 
first  turned  his  attention  to  theological  studies— is  the  next  to  come 
into  view.  He  com.es  of  a  handsome  stock  and  shows  it.  Like 
his  father,  he  cultivates  a  pair  of  side  whiskers,  long  and  silky, 
but  he  has  inherited  a  sedateness  of  demeanour  from  some  other 
ancestor  that  his  immediate  progenitor  missed.  There  are  certain 
indications  of  his  clerical  vocation  about  his  attire,  and  probably 
also  in  his  countenance  and  demeanour.  The  guileless  simplicity 
of  his  character  has  fitted  him  most  accurately  for  his  calling. 
The  air  of  truthfulness  and  fearless  honesty  in  his  eyes,  and  tones, 
and  gestures,  is  the  heritage  of  his  race.  He  is  a  man  of  parts, 
has  been  a  diligent  student,  and  were  it  not  for  a  sort  of  laxity  in 
his  grasp  of  theological  dogmas,  in  so  far  as  these  apply  to  minor 
points,  and  a  sort  of  readiness  to  find  correspondencies  betwixt 
his  creed  and  that  of  dissenters,  he  might  aspire  to  high  prefer 
ment  in  the  church. 

Sir  John  Lacy  is  in  the  cushioned  arm-chair.  He  has  a  habit 
of  falling  into  soft  spots  and  of  taking  special  care  of  his  own  com 
fort.  With  many  praiseworthy  qualities,  he  has  this  sort  of  pol 
ished  selfishness  that  distinguishes  well-bred  Englishmen  from 
men  of  other  nationalities.  He  was  a  soldier  in  the  Crimean  war 
—a  cavalry  subaltern — and  he  brought  back  with  him  an  unscarred 

5 


66  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS.. 

body  and  a  good  reputation.  It  could  not  be  said  of  him  that  be 
shrunk  from  exposure  to  any  danger  that  came  in  the  line  of  duty, 
faut  he  did  not  volunteer  for  the  mere  sake  of  incurring  risks.  He 
fought  well  and  valiantly,  when  fighting  was  to  be  done,  and 
complained  fretfully  of  the  privations  iucideut  to  camp  life  when 
the  battle  was  over.  He  is  a  little  vain  of  his  shapely  person, 
especially  when  he  dons  his  uniform.  He  is  colonel  now  of  a  regi 
ment  of  volunteer  riflemen,  and  the  ultimate  authority  in  military 
matters  at  Lavington.  He  has  sleepy  looking  blue  eyes  and  a 
profusion  of  tawny  beard,  and  would  be  remarkably  good  looking 
if  he  were  not  contrasted  with  Lord  Morton  and  the  Eevereud 
John  Harwood. 

You  need  not  waste  much  time  in  examination  of  the  other 
occupant  of  the  library.  Nothing  striking  here  ;  only  a  plain  ath 
lete — Lacy  Barston.  He  also  was  soldiering;  when  his  cousin 
went  to  the  Crimea  he  went  with  him.  Nothing  special  was  said 
about  his  prowess,  and  in  fact  there  was  not  much  chance  for  dis 
tinction  in  his  regiment.  a  He  was  a  jolly  companion  and  a  very 
safe  sabre  to  have  at  one's  bridle-arm  in  a  cavalry  charge."  This 
was  Sir  John's  judgment,  and  I  may  remark  here  that  Barston 
always  managed  to  take  that  precise  position  in  their  short  war  ex 
perience.  He  was  "  whimsical,  but  true  as  steel."  This  was  Par 
son  Johnny's  judgment,  and  I  think  he  probably  knew  Barston's 
interior  life  better  than  any  other.  He  was  "  a  gentleman  in 
every  pulsation  of  his  heart."  This  Lord  Morton  said,  and  there 
was  no  better  judge.  As  he  sits  apart  there,  blowing  the  fragrant 
smoke  through  his  thick  moustache,  you  would  not  give  him  a 
second  look  unless  you  should  chance  to  catch  a  glance  from  his 
deep  blue  eyes,  so  earnest,  so  thoughtful — revealing  a  capacity  for 
unmeasured  jollity,  and — if  you  are  swift  enough  to  detect  it — a 
limitless  capacity  for  tears  as  well. 

These  are  very  slight  sketches.  Will  the  reader  please  fill  up 
the  rude  outlines?  or,  still  better,  wait  until  these  gentlemen 
"  pronounce"  themselves  in  the  course  of  the  story  ? 

"  I  must  say,  Parson  Johnny,"  said  Lord  Morton,  "  that  you  are 
a  capital  judge  of  cigars." 

"  Do  you  like  the  flavour,  father  ?" 

"  Yes,  very  much.    I  believe  they  are  better  than  my  Cabanas." 

"  That  cannot  be,"  objected  Sir  John ;  "  those  Cabanas  you  gave 
us  in  London  should  be  branded  ne  plus  ultra.  These  are  very 
fine,  parson,  but  your  father  is  perhaps  the  only  man  in  Eng 
land  that  can  produce  anything  better." 


THE  GENTLEMEN.  67 

"What  is  your  verdict,  Barston  f  said  the  rector. 

"  I  have  a  special  reason  for  withholding  it  in  this  presence. 
Be  content  to  know  that  they  are  good  enough." 

"  Come,  sir,"  said  Lord  Morton,  "  you  only  excite  our  curiosity. 
Favour  us  with  your  opinion." 

"  Not  unless  Parson  Johnny  insists ;' 

"  Certainly  I  insist.    Always  obey  your  seniors !" 

Mr.  Barston  took  a  letter  from  his  pocket,  which  he  unfolded 
with  great  reluctance.  Glancing  over  it  he  hesitated,  shook  his 
head,  and  put  it  back. 

"  Cannot  do  it !    It  is  too  cold-blooded!"  he  said. 

"  If  you  don't  read  that  letter,"  said  Sir  John,  half  rising,  "  we 
three  will  throttle  you  and  take  it  by  force !  I  see  it  is  one  of 
your  tricks,  but  you  cannot  escape  us  all !" 

"  I  am  too  lazy  to  fight,  but  I  do  not  doubt  that  I  could  evade 
you.  I  will  read  the  postscript.  This  letter  is  from  Parson 
Johnny,  who  orders  me  to  read  it.  '  P.  S. — If  you  are  at  Har- 
wood  House,  old  Swiss,  please  get  the  butler's  key  and  look  on 
the  first  shelf  at  the  right  of  the  door,  and  steal  me  a  box  or  two 
of  father's  Cabanas.  You  had  better  get  one  Colorado  and  one 
Oscuro.  The  latter  are  the  better,  but  father  is  coming  down  and 

he  prefers  the  others ' "  He  put  up  the  letter  and  continued, 

"  These  are  the  Colorados !" 

"  You  young  rascals !"  said  Lord  Morton,  when  the  laugh  had 
subsided,  "  do  you  keep  up  all  your  supplies  in  this  fashion  V 

"  Oh  no,  sir,"  answered  the  rector.  "  You  know  my  bachelor 
establishment  is  very  inexpensive.  I  am  pretty  well  supplied 
with  cigars,  anyhow,  and  this  theft  was  perpetrated  wholly  in 
your  own  interests.  I  might  have  written  you  to  bring  some 
1  Colorados,'  but  it  looked  so  awkward  to  invite  an  expected  guest 
to  furnish  his  own  cigars.  Swiss,  did  you  get  a  box  for  yourself  f ' 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Barston,  indignantly.  "As  Lord  Morton 
prefers  the  light  cigars,  may  I  ask  why  you  ordered  the  Oscurosf 

"  Why  for  you,  of  course.  You  agreed  with  me  in  thinking  the 
dark  ones  better  when  we  were  at  Harwood  House  in  the  spring." 

"  My  lord,"  said  Mr.  Barston,  "you  cannot  trust  Parson  Johnny. 
He  might  send  some  less  honest  person  into  your  house,  and  rob 
you  more  shameful^.  I  hope  I  need  not  say  that  I  did  not  bor 
row  '  the  butler's  key.'  .Nothing  would  induce  me  to  do  such  a 
thing." 

"  May  I  inquire  how  you  got  the  cigars,  then  1" 


68  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"I  did  not  get  them  at  all,  sir.  I  just  read  Parson  Johnny's 
letter  to  your  hopeful  son,  Allen.'' 

"  A  nice  lot  of  vipers  I  have  raised !"  said  Lord  Morton,  pre 
tending  to  sigh.  "  I  suppose  Allen  did  not  object  f 

"  On  the  contrary,  he  said  it  was  jolly.  '  You  see,  Swiss,'  he 
said,  'it  will  play  two  tricks  on  father  at  once.  First,  he  is 
awfully  stingy  about  the  Cabanas,  and  second,  it  will  be  prime 
fun  for  Parson  Johnny  to  make  him  run  down  his  own  cigars !" 

The  senior  joined  in  the  laugh  with  great  enjoyment.  "  I  have 
never  heard,"  he  said  at  last,  "  how  Mr.  Barston  obtained  his  title. 
I  know  you  boys  have  been  calling  him  '  Swiss'  since  your  school 
days " 

"Let  me  tell  that  story,  father,"  said  the  rector,  eagerly,  "  that 
is,  unless  '  Swiss'  wishes  to  relate  his  own  adventures '?" 

"  Not  I.  You  have  so  vivid  an  imagination  that  it  always  re 
freshes  me  to  hear  your  yarns.  If  you  mean  the  cow  story,  though, 
you  have  no  right  to  call  that  my  adventure." 

"  Well,  let  father  decide.  You  remember,  sir,  that  we  were  all 
at  Oxford  together,  and  all  freshmen.  Barston  could  have  entered 
the  higher  class,  but  he  generously  declined  to  start  ahead  of  us. 
As  far  as  rascality  was  concerned,  his  education  was  already 
finished.  All  of  the  ordinary  villauies  of  freshmen  he  disdained, 
but  constantly  invented  new  tricks  to  astound  the  authorities.  He 
was  never  caught,  and  kept  up  a  fine  reputation  by  perfect  recita 
tions,  exemplary  behaviour  during  hours,  attendance  at  chapel, 
and  general  outward  rectitude.  But  at  night l  Swiss '  displayed 
his  peculiar  talent,  and  the  rest  of  us  used  to  wait  patiently  for 
his  guidance.  One  of  our  special  enemies  was  old  Doctor  Blixem, 
who  had  a  favourite  cow,  and  one  night  Barston  unfolded  his 
scheme,  which  was  to  put  old  Blixem's  cow  on  the  roof  of  our 
dormitory.  I  can't  tell  you  how  he  got  her  up  stairs " 

"  I  twisted  her  tail,"  interrupted  Barstou,  coolly.  "  There's  a 
great  deal  of  fuss  made  about  scientific  discoveries,  but  the 
fact  is,  the  most  of  them  have  been  either  accidental  or  else 
suggested  by  some  corresponding  law  in  nature.  There  is  the 
steam  engine  business ;  one  fellow,  I  remember,  is  said  to  have 
discovered  steam  power  by  being  half  drunk  and  throwing  a 
'  Florence  flask,'  whatever  that  is,  into  the  fire.  The  flask  con 
tained  a  little  wine,  and  it  bubbled  up  and  made  steam,  and  blew 
the  fellow  up,  or  the  back  out  of  the  fire-place,  I  forget  which. 
Another  chap  saw  the  tea-kettle  lid  bobbing  up  and  down,  and  he 


TEE  GENTLEMEN.  69 

made  an  independent  steam  discovery.  Then  Mr.  Watt  made  the 
engine  and  got  the  credit.  Now,  here  is  the  application  of  power 
to  the  stern  of  vessels — the  propeller  instead  of  the  paddle  wheels. 
No  fellow  was  wise  enough  to  think  of  propulsion,  but  the  paddle 
wheel  was  universal.  Now  I  venture  to  assert  that  the  screw  pro 
peller  was  suggested  to  some  boy  who  screwed  a  cow's  tail  to 
make  her  go  j  but  when  he  came  to  apply  his  discovery  to  steam 
ship  navigation,  he  had  not  the  manliness  to  confess  where  he  got 
his  inspiration.  Again,  if  I  do  not  weary  you " 

"  Go  on,  go  on !"  said  his  audience. 

"Well,  the  propeller  only  half  does  the  work  after  all.  No;v, 
an  experienced  man  can  not  only  propel  the  cow,  but  can  steer  her. 
I  steered  Blixein's  cow,  and  she  was  awfully  green  and  cranky, 
and  kicked  abominably.  I  am  sure  I  could  put  that  cow  up  stairs, 
after  a  little  practice,  without  a  baulk.  But  I  tire  you " 

" Go  on,  go  on!"  said  his  listeners. 

"Well,  gentlemen,  I  feel  indignant  when  I  seethe  amazing  pre 
tension  of  these  inventors !  Who  has  ever  tried  to  steer  a  ship 
with  the  screw  $  Some  villain  has  got  a  patent,  no  doubt,  and  is 
now  rolling  in  wealth,  for  applying  an  original  discovery  of  mine 
and  Blixem's  cow!  Proceed  with  your  narrative,  Parson  Johnny. 
I  have  finished." 

Parson  Johnny  indulged  in  a  quiet  laugh  and  went  on. 

"  Anyhow,  he  got  her  up  and  on  the  roof.  There  is  a  balcony 
about  large  enough  to  hold  the  cow,  and  there  he  left  her.  During 
the  night  she  lowed  dismally,  and  Barston  said  she  wished  to  be 
milked.  So  he  took  a  bucket  up  and  actually  milked  her  while 
the  rest  of  us  watched  on  the  campus.  While  thus  employed  he 
sang  melodiously : 

'  Come,  arouse  thee,  arouse  thee,  my  brave  Swiss  boy, 
Take  thy  pail  and  to  labour  away  I* 

He  had  and  still  has  a  magnificent  voice,  and  old  Blixem  heard 
him.  The  next  day  the  cow  was  got  down  with  blocks  and  pul 
leys,  and  we  were  all  hauled  up  for  examination.  Old  Blixem 
was  in  a  great  rage  because  the  cow  had  been  milked,  and  was 
intent  only  upon  finding  the  milker.  None  of  us  had  any  trouble 
about  denying  that  part  of  the  business,  until  Barston's  turn 
came,  when  the  doctor  said  he  would  not  insult  so  exemplary  a 
gentleman  by  questioning  him,  especially  as  he  had  heard  him 
singing  in  his  room  at  the  very  hour  when  the  milking  must  have 
been  done.  We  all  got  off,  and  of  course  Barston  became  the 
1  Swiss  Boy'  at  once. 


70  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Did  it  end  in  this  way  F  asked  Lord  Morton. 

"Ob,  no.  Swiss  told  Blixem  the  whole  story  before  the  term 
was  over,  and  that  was  the  brightest  manifestation  of  his  genius. 
lie  said  the  cow  was  a  very  valuable  animal,  and  he  thought  it 
would  injure  her  to  let  her  go  unmilked,  and  therefore  he  did  it. 
Blixem  not  only  forgave  him  but  thanked  him." 

"  Doctor  Blixem  is  a  regular  trump,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Barston.  l-  We 
were  fast  friends,  and  he  helped  me  over  many  a  tough  place.  I 
could  not  take  so  many  kindnesses  from  him,  you  know,  without 
clearing  that  cow  out  of  the  way.  I  had  to  tell  him." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Lord  Morton,  rising,  "  I  have  several  cows  at 
Morton  Priory,  and  they  are  all  at  your  service.  Come,  stay  there 
while  we  are  in  Devonshire.  It  will  be  more  cheerful  for  you  than 
your  solitary  life  at  Oakland,  and  a  great  favour  to  me." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  my  lord,  and  I  frankly  accept  your  invita 
tion  to  spend  as  much  time  as  I  can  at  your  house.  No  other  house 
in  England  is  so  attractive  to  me." 

"  And  no  guest  will  be  more  welcome  than  yourself,  Lacy.  Shall 
I  send  for  your  traps  ?" 

"  No  need,  sir.  Parson  Johnny  will  drive  me  over  when  I  am 
ready.  He  must  have  a  drag,  you  know,  to  take  his  big  fiddle." 


CHAPTER    VIII. 
THE  RED  HALL. 

IT  was  a  bright  noon-tide  in  August  when  the  gay  party  passed 
through  the  lodge  gates  and  caught  sight  of  the  tall  gray 
tower  of  Sir  John  Lacy's  house.  This  tower  had  been  known  in 
former  days  as  the  Lacy  Keep,  and  was  more  ancient,  by  several 
centuries,  than  the  rest  of  the  building,  which  had  been  added  to 
the  tower,  a  bit  at  a  time,  and  without  regard  to  architectural  rules. 
The  park  surrounding  the  Hall  was  almost  a  wilderness,  as  the 
property  had  been  totally  neglected  during  the  baronet's  minority. 
But  as  Lord  Morton's  carriage,  followed  by  the  two  equestrians, 
drew  nearer  the  buildiugs,  the  signs  of  renovation  increased.  The 
\viudows  were  all  open,  and  the  scaffolding  of  the  workmen  covered 
all  the  main  front.  The  disagreeable  odour  of  paint  pervaded  the 
larger  part  of  the  house,  and  was  escaped  only  when  they  reached 


THE  RED   HALL.  71 

the  dining  room,  which  was  the  ground  floor  of  the  old  Keep.  Here 
there  had  been  no  improvement  attempted.  The  walls  were  wains 
coted,  and  the  grim  old  furniture,  all  oaken,  like  the  walls,  gave 
an  air  of  antiquity  corresponding  with  the  marks  of  age  distin 
guishing  this  part  of  the  edifice.  The  large  dining  table  in  the 
centre  was  covered  with  a  snowy  cloth,  upon  which  the  noonday 
repast  was  spread  when  the  party  entered. 

tl  I  bid  you  welcome  to  the  Red  Hall,  my  lady,"  said  Sir  John, 
with  courtly  grace,  offering  his  arm,  "  and  I  beg  you  to  honour 
me  so  far  as  to  occupy  the  throne,  at  the  head  of  the  table." 

u  That  were  an  ill  omen,  Sir  John,"  she  replied ;  "  take  the  head 
yourself  and  allow  me  to  sit  at  your  right  hand." 

"  I  accept  your  presence  here  as  the  harbinger  of  better  days 
for  the  Hall.  This  is  my  first  appearance  since  the  renovation 
began.  Later  in  the  summer  I  hope  to  take  more  formal  possess 
ion,  when  you  and  my  lord  will  preside  at  a  regular  festival.  It  will 
be  his  valedictory,  as  he  relinquishes  his  guardianship  and  inducts 
the  heir  of  all  the  Lacys  into  his  heritage.  Parson  Johnny,  you 
may  sit  next  Miss  Tamworth,  at  the  end  of  the  table.  I  have  been 
sounding  your  praises  on  our  way  hither.  See  that  you  keep  up 
your  reputation.  Miss  Harwood,  my  love,  be  seated.  Serve, 
Thomas !" 

It  was  a  recherche  little  feast.  Sir  John  had  brought  a  cook  with 
him  from  Paris,  and  that  artist  won  golden  opinions  from  the  hun 
gry  party.  Green  turtle,  some  chops,  a  salad,  and  a  little  wine. 
English  men  and  women  in  sound  health  extract  enjoyment  from 
feeding  that  other  nationalities  are  strangers  to.  After  the  repast, 
which  was  prolonged  a  little  by  all,  Lord  Morton  dismissed  the 
ladies  with  great  politeness. 

"  You  will  have  an  hour,  ladies,"  he  said,  "  in  which  to  explore. 
Sir  John  desires  you  to  investigate  every  nook  and  corner — 

"  And  beware  of  the  paint "  put  in  the  baronet. 

"And  while  you  are  absent,"  continued  Lord  Morton,  "  I  will 
have  to  indulge  these  boys  in  a  smoke.  Parson  Johnny  stole  a  lot 
of  my  cigars,  and  has  a  supply  with  him.  My  lady,  I  beg  you  4;o 
keep  the  keys  at  your  girdle  hereafter.  It  begins  to  grow  serious 
when  they  get  after  my  Cabanas !" 

"  Nobody  had  the  keys  except  Allen,"  said  Lady  Morton. 

"I  think  you  had  better  make  no  exceptions.  Allen,  I  learn, 
thought  it  special  fun  to  rob  his  poor  old  father,  because  he  fan 
cied  I  was  particularly  u stingy"  about  my  cigars.  Certainly  these 


72  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

sons  of  mine  have  inherited  their  proclivities  from  your  side  of  the 
house,  as  no  ancestor  of  mine  was  ever  caught  in  such  tricks." 

"My  kindred  have  always  borne  a  good  reputation,"  replied  Lady 
Morton,  with  pretended  dignity.  "  You  bear  the  name  of  one  of 
them  whose  history  is  part  of  the  history  of  England." 

"Well,  well!  I  will  say  no  more.  If  you  once  get  a  woman 
talking  about  the  virtues  of  her  ancestry,  there  is  no  telling  when 
she  will  stop.  Allow  me  to  indicate  the  way.  Keep  the  corridor 
the  whole  length  of  the  new  building.  The  staircase  is  at  the  end. 
No  danger  of  paint  up  stairs.  It  is  all  dry.  Come,  Parson,  pro 
duce  your  stolen  property.  I  hope  you  will  give  us  a  sermon  upon 
honesty  next  Sunday." 

Leaving  the  smokers  reeking  in  the  fumes  of  the  vile  weed  with 
which  they  poisoned  the  pure  air,  we  will  follow  the  ladies  in  their 
explorations.  At  the  end  of  the  long  hall  they  found  the  stair 
case,  and  at  its  foot  a  little  old  woman  with  a  bunch  of  keys  in 
her  hand. 

"  Mrs.  Froome,  the  housekeeper,  my  lady,"  she  said,  dropping  a 
curtesy  to  Lady  Morton.  "  I  am  to  show  you  the  way." 

She  tripped  lightly  up  the  steps  with  this  introduction,  followed 
by  the  ladies,  who  looked  with  surprise  at  each  other  and  at  the 
active  little  body  that  preceded  them.  Arrived  at  the  first  landing, 
she  faced  them  again  and  fumbled  among  her  keys,  chatting  vol 
ubly  the  while. 

"  This  corridor,  my  lady,  is  on  the  back  of  the  house,  and  all  the 
rooms  on  this  floor  open  upon  the  front  lawn.  Since  Sir  Elbert's 
death  nobody  has  lived  here  except  my  grandson,  Thomas,  and 
myself.  You  saw  Thomas,  the  butler,  at  luncheon." 

"Your  grandson!"  said  Miss  Tarn  worth,  "  why  he  is  fifty  years 
old !" 

"Yes.  I  am  ninety-one.  I  have  lived  eighty  years  in  the  Eed 
Hall.  This  is  the  yellow  room.  It  is  the  principal  guest  chamber. 
The  furniture  has  not  been  renewed  in  my  lifetime,  and  is  faded  a 
good  bit.  Mr.  Lacy  says  we  cannot  have  any  new  furniture  at 
present." 

"You  mean  Sir  John?"  said  Miss  Harwood. 

"  No,  ma'am.  I  mean  Mr.  Barston.  He  has  ordered  all  the 
repairs,  and  Sir  John  has  only  been  here  once  or  twice.  Mr.  Lacy's 
father  was  Sir  John's  guardian,  you  know,  and  since  he  died,  Mr. 
Lacy  has  been  watching  over  him  like  an  older  brother.  Isn't  it 
strange,"  and  here  she.  dropped  her  voice  into  a  confidential  whis- 


TEE  RED  HALL.  13 

per — "  isn't  it  strange  that  Sir  John  should  look  exactly  like  Sir 
Ranald  !  I  will  show  you  his  portrait  presently.  None  of  the 
Lacys  have  resembled  him,  and  they  do  say  as  Sir  Ranald  was  the 
first  of  the  line.  But  I  beg  your  pardon  for  chattering  so  much." 

"  Go  on,  Mrs.  Froome,  if  you  please,"  said  Lady  Morton,  "  we 
are  very  much  interested." 

"  Well,  my  lady,"  resumed  Mrs.  Froome,  "  they  used  to  say,  ever 
so  long  ago,  that  the  last  Lacy  would  look  like  Sir  Ranald.  There 
is  nothing  about  it  in  the  prophecy." 

"The  prophecy!"  said  all  three  of  her  listeners. 

"  Yes.  Many  a  time  I  have  heard  it.  This  chamber  is  Sir 
John's.  You  see  there  is  modern  furniture  here.  That  is  the  door 
of  the  dressing  room.  There  is  another  dressing  room  adjoining, 
and  then  comes  my  lady's  room.  You  can  go  through  the  two 
doors.  No  fear  of  paint.  It  has  been  quite  dry  for  a  week.  You 
can  see  Oakland  from  this  window." 

"The  view  is  charming,"  said  Lady  Morton;  "but  you  were 
speaking  of  the  prophecy." 

"Yes,  my  lady,  if  you  are  not  tired  we  will  go  to  Sir  Ra 
nald's  room.  It  is  in  the  tower  just  over  the  dining  room."  She 
unlocked  the  door  as  she  spoke,  and  passing  the  other  chambers, 
reached  the  end  of  the  corridor.  Descending  two  or  three  steps 
she  opened  a  door,  deeply  set  in  the  thick  wall,  and  entered  a  spa 
cious  chamber  almost  bare  of  furniture.  The  walls  were  hung 
with  old  tapestry.  A  large  sofa  covered  with  crimson  velvet,  and 
two  or  three  arm  chairs  to  match,  were  grouped  together  in  the 
centre  of  the  room.  The  tapestry  was  of  the  same  colour,  and  there 
was  a  sombre  air  about  the  apartment  in  spite  of  the  bright  sun 
light  that  streamed  in  at  the  open  windows.  A  faded  red  carpet 
covered  the  floor,  apparently  more  worn  by  age  than  by  use.  At  one 
end  of  the  room  a  large  open  fire-place,  with  great  brazen  andirons, 
highly  polished.  A  red  fire  screen,  folded,  leaned  against  the  wall 
near  by ;  opposite,  a  variety  of  armour  was  arranged,  some  sus 
pended  upon  the  antlers  of  a  deer,  fastened  to  the  wall,  and  some 
hanging  from  iron  hooks.  In  the  midst  of  the  armour,  a  large 
gilt  frame,  the  picture  being  covered  with  a  crimson  cloth.  The 
room  and  its  furniture,  scrupulously  free  from  dust,  had  an  inde 
finable,  weird  aspect,  that  sensibly  affected  the  visitors.  The  old 
housekeeper  seemed  to  enjoy  the  effect  of  this  show  chamber  upon 
the  ladies  with  a  grisly  satisfaction,  that  was  positively  comical, 
upon  her  bright  and  pleasant  countenance.  She  wheeled  the  sofa 


74  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

round,  facing  the  light,  and  when  the  ladies  were  seated,  she  drew 
one  of  the  chairs  in  front  of  them,  and  evidently  indicated  by  her 
whole  demeanour,  as  she  seated  herself,  that  she  was  prepared  to 
gratify  their  curiosity  if  they  chose  to  question  her.  My  fair 
reader,  they  were  descendants  of  your  ancestress,  Mother  Eve. 
Need  1  tell  you  that  they  did  ? 

"  We  always  show  this  room  to  visitors,"  began  Mrs.  Froome, 
smoothing  her  apron — abut  I  don't  have  much  to  say  about  the 
family  to  strangers,  of  course.  But  you  are  kinsfolk,  and  after 
Mr.  Lacy,  you  are  the  nighest  kin  Sir  John  has.  I  have  heard 
many  bits  of  stories  about  the  old  Lacys,  and  maybe  you  can 
tell  me  some  things  I  don't  know." 

"  Indeed,  Mrs.  Frooine,  we  know  very  little.  We  can  hardly  be 
called  kindred,  however.  Lord  Morton's  grandmother,  I  think,  was 
married  to  one  of  the  Lacys — but  I  am  not  sure.  I  have  never 
heard  a  word  about  the  prophecy,  and  hope  you  will  tell  us  about 
it,  that  is,  if  there  is  no  family  secret  that  should  not  be  revealed." 

The  old  woman  nodded  pleasantly,  and  ambling  to  the  window 
she  pointed  to  the  gentlemen  sauntering  under  the  trees  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  off. 

"  They  won't  be  back  under  an  hour,"  she  said,  smacking  her 
lips.  "  Of  course  there  is  nothing  to  conceal,  leastways  from  you. 
But  to  tell  you  about  the  prophecy  I  must  begin  with  Sir  Ranald." 
She  resumed  her  seat,  and  without  more  ado  furnished  the  ma 
terial  for  the  succeeding  chapter. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

SIR  RANALD  DE  LACY. 

T  CANNOT  tell  you,  ladies,  in  what  reign  Sir  Ranald  lived.  I 
think  it  was  in  the  time  of  Henry  V.  I  know  he  fought  in  some 
French  battle,  and  I  think  it  was  Azincourt.  He  was  a  great 
warrior  and  a  favourite  of  the  king  in  spite  of  his  religion.  All  the 
Lacys  have  been  Protestants.  It  is  said  of  Sir  Ranald  that  he 
kept  his  religious  views  to  himself,  though  he  was  very  intolerant 
when  he  could  safely  indulge  his  prejudices.  He  was  called  the 
"  Fighting  Lollard."  After  the  great  battle  of  Azincourt  the  Eng 
lish  army  overran  Normandy,  and  it  was  here  that  Sir  Ranald's 
story  begins. 


SIR  RANALD   DE  LACY.  75 

It  was  at  the  siege  of  a  French  castle  where  the  defenders  fought 
with  great  desperation  uoder  the  Count  De  Lys.  When  the  Eng 
lish  got  in  at  last  they  still  fought  from  room  to  room,  and  finally 
the  count  aud  his  family,  driven  into  the  topmost  chamber,  made 
their  last  despairing  stand.  Sir  Ranald  gained  this  room  with  two 
or  three  of  his  followers,  and  it  is  said  that  he  killed  two  of  the 
count's  daughters  who  were  fighting  like  men,  with  his  own  hand, 
and  cruelly  wounded  the  third,  who  fought  like  a  tigress  over  her 
father's  body.  But  she  was  not  killed,  aud  when  the  conquerors 
returned  to  the  main  army  Sir  Ranald  brought  her  with  him. 
There  was  a  great  lot  of  booty  gained  and  Sir  Ranald  got  the  lion's 
share,  all  in  jewelry  of  value.  To  make  himself  secure  in  the  pos 
session  of  this  wealth  he  married  the  Lady  Marie,  a  French  priest 
performing  the  ceremony  while  the  lady  was  thought  to  be  dying 
from  her  wounds.  There  is  a  legend  which  says  Sir  Ranald  bought 
the  priest  to  consent  by  professing  to  renounce  his  religion,  and 
the  Lady  Marie,  who  was  very  bigoted,  consented  because  she 
thought  she  was  dying  aud  wished  to  secure  a  higher  place  in 
Heaven  by  saving  a  notable  heretic  like  the  Fighting  Lollard, 
whose  name  was  a  terror  in  all  that  region.  She  did  not  die,  how 
ever,  but  came  to  England  and  lived  a  year  in  this  very  tower? 
which  then  stood  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  Lacy  lauds,  which  in 
those  days  reached  to  Morton  Priory. 

Once  secure  in  his  own  home,  Sir  Ranald's  conversion  faded  away- 
All  his  retainers  were  Lollards,  aud  nobody  got  entrance  to  the 
Lacy  Keep  but  Protestants.  There  was  great  strife  between  him  and 
his  French  wife,  which  culminated  in  declared  hostility  when  Sir 
Ranald  had  his  infant  son  baptized  by  a  Lollard  preacher.  He 
laughed  at  her  vehement  recital  of  his  former  vows,  and  when  she 
reminded  him  that  the  most  solemn  part  of  his  promise  related  to 
the  faith  of  any  children  that  might  be  borii  to  him,  he  said  his 
promises  to  the  priest  were  an  "  agreement  with  hell,"  and  were 
annulled  by  a  more  solemn  authority.  The  unhappy  lady,  who 
was  of  a  violent  temper,  then  declared  the  marriage  was  null  also, 
and  announced  her  intention  of  quitting  Lacy  Keep  with  the  child 
at  the  first  opportunity.  Whereupon  Sir  Rauald  imprisoned  her 
in  the  room  above  this,  and  carried  the  key  at  his  belt,  taking  her 
daily  food  to  her  with  his  own  hands  and  allowing  no  communica 
tion  with  her  whatever. 

You  know  t^ie  country  was  in  a  very  disturbed  state  in  those 
days.  The  Lollards  were  persecuted  and  slaiu,  wherever  it  could 


76  TEE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

be  done,  and  this  particular  locality  was  the  scene  of  many  bitter 
feuds.  All  the  nobles  nearest  the  Keep  were  Catholics,  and  if  it 
had  not  been  for  other  wars  that  drew  attention  from  this  little 
corner  of  the  kingdom,  Sir  Ranald  would  have  found  it  hard  to 
hold  his  lands.  Besides  this,  his  old  reputation  as  the  Fighting 
Lollard  stood  him  in  stead,  as  it  was  well  known  that  the  taking 
of  the  Lacy  Keep  would  be  a  most  costly  victory. 

I  should  have  told  you  earlier  that  Sir  Ranald  had  a  half-brother, 
though  not  of  the  Lacy  blood.  His  mother  was  the  widow  of  Sip 
Anthony  Vane,  and  her  son  was  two  or  three  years  older  than  Sir 
Ranald.  This  man,  Sir  Hubert  Vane,  was  a  rigid  Catholic,  and 
on  that  account,  a  favourite  of  the  king.  He  was  also  an  accom. 
plished  courtier,  contrasting  strongly  with  Sir  Ranald,  who  was 
more  of  a  warrior,  and  whose  religious  prejudices  were  opposed  to 
the  frivolities  and  excesses  of  court  life.  There  was  a  hollow  friend 
ship  between  the  half  brothers,  though  each  secretly  despised  the 
other.  After  the  marriage  of  Sir  Ranald  the  courtier  visited  the 
Keep  once  only,  bringing  some  message  from  the  king,  and  was, 
entertained  with  all  the  hospitality  due  from  a  Lacy  to  a  'guest. 
In  the  few  days  Sir  Hubert  spent  at  the  Keep  he  managed  to  in 
gratiate  himself  with  Lady  De  Lacy,  and  to  establish  very  confiden 
tial  relations  with  her,  partly  on  the  score  of  kinship  and  partly 
on  the  ground  of  a  common  faith.  It  was  just  at  the  time  that 
Sir  Ranald  began  to  display  the  cloven  foot  of  the  Lollard,  equal 
ly  hateful  to  his  wife  and  his  kinsman.  They  parted  in  anger  at 
last,  each  regretting  that  the  accident  of  birth  forbade  an  appeal 
to  the  arguments  they  carried  in  their  scabbards. 

After  the  birch  of  her  sou,  the  countess — she  called  herself  the 
Countess  De  Lys — resided  constantly  in  her  chamber.  I  would 
take  you  up  to  see  it  but  it  is  not  necessary.  It  is  like  this  room, 
but  has  never  since  been  used  except  as  a  lumber  room.  I  sup 
pose  no  one  who  ever  heard  the  story  of  the  countess  would  sleep 
in  it  for  the  Lacy  lands.  Sir  Ranald  spent  some  hours  each  day 
with  her,  treating  her  with  great  courtesy  at  all  times,  steadfastly 
refusing  to  discuss  the  question  of  creeds,  and  steadfastly  refus 
ing  to  release  her  from  this  imprisonment.  All  that  he  could  give 
her,  except  liberty,  she  had.  But  when  he  left  her  she  and  the 
infant  spent  the  long  hours  alone,  seeing  no  countenance  and  hear 
ing  no  voice  but  his  for  weary  months.  He  dared  not  allow  her 
maids  to  attend  upon  her,  as  he  knew  she  would  fulfil  her  threat 
to  quit  the  Keep  upon  the  first  opportunity.  But  her  woman's 
wit  was  too  much  for  all  his  precautions. 


SIR  RANALD  DE  LACY.  77 

Of  course  the  forced  seclusion  of  the  countess  was  known  be 
yond  the  walls  of  Lacy  Keep.  Stories  of  that  sort  are  very  apt 
to  get  out.  And  it  happened  that  Sir  Hubert  Vane  heard  of  the 
birth  of  the  child,  of  the  mother's  imprisonment,  and,  probably, 
of  the  cause. 

Sir  Hubert  came  to  Exeter  with  a  body  of  men-at-arms.  One 
day,  when  De  Lacy  was  in  the  lady's  chamber,  an  arrow  came  in 
at  the  window  and  fell  at  his  feet.  He  took  it  up  and  found  a 
billet  fastened  to  the  barb.  It  was  from  his  half  brother,  address 
ed  to  his  wife,  proposing  to  deliver  her  from  her  imprisonment^ 
and  appointing'  the  next  night  for  her  flight..  The  letter  also  said 
that  the  king  promised  his  protection,  and  that  the  church  would 
annul  her  marriage  with  her  heretic  lord,  but  would  assure  the 
succession  of  the  Lacy  estates  to  her  child.  The  countess  sat 
quietly  by  while  he  read  the  letter,  and  no  words  passed  between 
them.  Sir  Ranald  retired  from  the  room  and  passed  the  earlier 
hours  of  the  night  in  perfecting  his  plans  to  circumvent  his  wife 
and  kinsman.  It  was  a  serious  business  to  defy  the  king ;  it  was 
a  far  lighter  matter  to  slay  his  kinsman.  He  concluded  at  last  to 
question  the  countess  again,  and  if  she  refused  to  obey  him,  to  re 
move  the  child.  Accordingly,  he  climbed  the  stair  again,  torch 
in  hand,  and  reentered  her  apartment.  It  was  empty.  He  rushed 
to  the  open  window  and  saw  the  rope  ladder  fastened  to  the  sill — 
heard  the  tramp  of  horses'  feet,  at  the  very  base  of  the  Keep.  A 
bow  and  a  sheaf  of  arrows  stood  near  the  window,  and  catching  up 
the  weapon  he  discharged  an  arrow  into  the  darkness.  He  heard 
it  ring  against  a  steel  corslet,  heard  a  shriek  and  a  curse.  He 
threw  down  the  bow,  and  with  a  Lacy's  recklessness  leaped  upon 
the  window  sill,  grasped  the  frail  ladder,  and  in  another  moment 
was  on  the  ground,  sword  in  hand.  At  the  same  instant  the  court 
yard  gate  was  flung  open  and  half  a  dozen  men  from  the  Keep 
rushed  out  with  torches  and  flashing  weapons.  The  horsemen 
fled,  all  but  one,  and  he  was  encumbered  with  the  lady.  He  drew 
his  sword,  however,  and  spurring  upon  Sir  Eanald,  met  his  ready 
weapon.  Before  the  retainers  reached  the  spot  the  combat  was 
over.  The  long  sword  of  the  Fighting  Lollard  had  passed  through 
the  body  of  his  half-brother  and  slightly  wounded  the  countess, 
hanging  nearly  lifeless  upon  his  arm.  Sir  Ranald's  arrow  had 
glanced  from  the  knight's  corslet  and  pierced  the  body  of  his  wife. 

When  the  bodies  were  taken  into  the  Keep  the  jewels  belonging 
to  the  Countess  De  Lys  were  found  in  the  bosom  of  Sir  Hubert 


78  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

Vane.  He  had  unclasped  his  corslet  and  thrust  the  precious 
packet  in  the  breast  of  his  leathern  doublet.  Before  he  had  time  to 
refasten  his  armour  the  impetuous  assault  of  Sir  Eanald  compelled 
him  to  betake  himself  to  his  weapon,  and  he  had  dealt  one  blow 
upon  the  unprotected  head  of  the  furious  Lollard  an  instant  be 
fore  the  latter's  blade  had  found  the  opening  in  his  corslet.  If  it 
had  not  been  for  his  anxiety  to  secure  the  jewels  he  would  have 
escaped  the  sword  thrust.  And  his  blood  was  the  first  that  stain 
ed  them  since  they  had  become  the  Lacy  Diamonds." 

Lady  Morton  started. 

Yes,  my  lady,  his  was  the  first.    They  got  plenty  of  stains  later. 

Such  rude  surgery  as  was  practiced  in  that  day  was  soon 
applied.  The  wounds  were  bound  up,  the  lady  carried  back  to 
her  chamber,  and  the  dying  knight  placed  upon  Sir  Eanald's  own 
couch.  Before  he  died  his  incoherent  mutterings  revealed  that 
the  jewels  were  the  real  attraction  that  had  brought  him  to  his 
death,  and  not  the  poor  countess.  Fearful  of  attracting  attention, 
he  had  come  to  the  Keep  with  but  three  of  his  followers.  To  one 
of  them  he  had  confided  the  child,  directing  him  to  ride  to  his 
camp  near  Exeter,  and  he  was  speedily  followed  by  the  others, 
when  half  a  dozen  armed  men  issued  from  the  Keep.  The  corres 
pondence  between  Sir  Hubert  and  the  lady  had  been  carried  on 
by  arrows,  the  countess  being  able  to  bend  a  bow  equal  to  a  man- 
at-arms.  Those  old  oaks  you  see  from  the  west  window  sheltered 
the  knight  and  his  men.  And  when  Sir  Eanald.  had  retired  with 
the  intercepted  letter,  she  immediately  sent  a  shaft  into  the  wood 
bearing  a  note  in  which  she  besought  Sir  Hubert  to  deliver  her 
that  night.  The  note  was  found  in  his  doublet. 

The  knight  died  and  was  buried  among  the  Lacys  with  due 
honours.  The  countess  lingered  day  by  day,  weeping  for  her  lost 
child.  Sir  Eanald's  wound  was  slight,  and  the  day  after  the  com 
bat  he  was  scouring  the  country  in  search  of  his  heir,  but  no  trace 
of  him  could  be  found.  The  men-at-arms  that  had  been  encamped 
at  Exeter  had  disappeared,  leaving  no  clue  by  which  they  could 
be  followed.  No  information  could  be  obtained  from  the  dying 
countess,  and  Sir  Eanald,  baffled  and  wearied,  after  three  days  of 
fruitless  search  returned  to  the  Keep  in  despair.  He  found  his 
wife  speechless  and  insensible,  evidentl3T  entering  the  dark  valley; 
and  when  the  sun  disappeared  behind  the  fatal  wood  the  lady's 
attendants  announced  to  Sir  Eanald  that  she  had  ceased  to 
breathe. 


TEE  PROPHECY.  79 


OHAPTEE  X. 
THE  PROPHECY. 

WHILE  the  women  were  busied  preparing  for  the  burial  of 
Lady  De  Lacy,  Sir  Eanald  paced  his  chamber  in  deep  dis 
tress.  His  life  had  been  passed  in  contention  and  strife,  but  since 
Azincourt,  where  he  had  won  great  renown  by  his  prowess,  he 
had  been  followed  by  a  series  of  misfortunes.  In  the  storming  of 
the  Castle  De  Lys  he  had  stained  his  sword  with  the  blood  of 
women,  and  the  savage  cruelty  of  that  day's  work  saddened  his 
after  life.  It  is  very  probable  that  the  wounds  he  had  inflicted  in 
the  heat  of  that  last  struggle  in  Normandy  were  given  in  self- 
defence,  for  the  legend  says  the  French  women  were  armed  cap-a- 
pie"  and  fought  like  the  Amazons  of  ancient  times,  and  in  this 
last  catastrophe  he  had  certainly  slain  his  wife  by  accident.  There 
was  a  proverb  extant  that  declared  the  "  sword  that  slew  woman 
or  priest"  was  accursed,  and  Sir  Eanald  was  not  free  from  the 
common  superstition  of  his  age.  He  lost  the  king's  favour,  and  his 
companions  in  arms  shrunk  from  him.  Since  the  birth  of  his  child 
and  the  bitter  contention  that  followed  his  baptism,  his  intercourse 
with  his  wife  had  been  most  unhappy.  While  she  loaded  him 
with  reproaches  and  threatened  him  with  desertion,  he  maintained 
the  same  courteous  demeanour,  though  inflexibly  refusing  to  admit 
any  professor  of  the  Catholic  faith  within  the  walls  of  the  Keep. 
The  only  exception  to  this  rule  was  the  solitary  visit  of  his  half 
brother,  and  this  had  been  fatal  in  its  results. 

His  sorrowful  meditations  were  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of 
an  old  man  with  snowy  hair  and  beard.  Sir  Eanald  placed  a 
settle  for  his  visitor  and  continued  his  walk. 

"  Thou  art  disturbed  in  mind  and  ill  in  body,  my  son,"  said  the 
old  man  ;  "  I  pray  thee  rest  upon  yonder  couch  and  I  will  watch 
while  thou  sleepest." 

"  I  cannot  sleep,  Father  Ealph,"  replied  De  Lacy ;  "  the  events 
of  the  last  few  days  would  seem  to  banish  sleep  evermore.  I 
cannot  find  ground  for  self-reproach,  yet  my  unhappy  fate  has 
heaped  sorrows  upon  me  without  measure.  Bethink  thee:  my  lady 
slain  by  my  hand ;  my  mother's  son  died  on  my  sword  ;  my  child 
lost  to  me  beyond  the  hope  of  recovery !  And  in  addition  to  all 
this  the  certainty  of  royal  wrath  and  probable  persecution  of  all 


80  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

Lollards  for  ray  sake.  Where  wilt  thou  find  shelter  if  Lacy  Keep 
be  garrisoned  by  royal  soldiers?" 

"  Think  not  of  me,  valiant  knight.  There  are  many  sure 
refuges  for  me,  even  here  in  Devon,  and  many  true  Christians 
who  will  still  gather  to  hear  my  message ;  but  I  would  fain  com 
fort  thee  in  thine  affliction.  Remember,  it  was  not  thy  will  that 
sped  the  shaft  against  thy  lady's  breast  j  and  to  her  life  was  well 
nigh  intolerable,  else  would  she  not  have  essayed  this  desperate 
venture.  The  death  of  Sir  Hubert  was  instead  of  thy  death,  and 
thou  wilt  carry  the  scar  from  his  brand  upon  thy  brow  Avhile  thy 
life  endures;  and  I  have  hope  of  finding  thy  son  when  the  bruit 
of  these  late  events  is  over.  Thou  hast  indeed  deep  cause  for 
sorrow,  but  thou  knowest  there  is  abundant  consolation  within 
thy  reach." 

Sir  Ranald  listened  with  profound  respect  to  the  aged  pastor. 
It  was  a  distinguishing  trait  of  the  Lollard  heretics  that  their 
spiritual  teachers  were  universally  revered  and  loved.  So  many 
instances  of  heroic  endurance  of  persecution  and  privation  were 
found  among  these  wandering  preachers  that  they  seemed  to  bear 
a  charmed  life.  On  his  return  from  Prance  a  year  or  two  before, 
Sir  Ranald  had  encountered  a  party  of  Lollard  preachers,  in  cus 
tody  of  a  small  body  of  archers,  led  by  a  Carmelite  monk.  It  was 
at  night,  and  the  two  little  troops  encamped  in  the  outskirts  of  a 
village.  Sir  Ranald's  Protestantism  was  not  suspected,  as  Lol 
lards  of  noble  birth  were  comparatively  rare ;  but  in  the  morning 
the  prisoners  were  all  gone,  and  De  Lacy  zealously  assisted  in  the 
search  for  them — in  the  wrong  direction ;  and  a  day  or  two  later 
the  fugitives  arrived  at  Lacy  Keep,  where  they  found  shelter  and 
security.  Father  Ralph,  who  was  among  the  captives,  had  re 
mained  as  chaplain  of  the  Keep,  beloved  by  all  its  inmates  except 
ing  the  countess. 

Sir  Ranald  paused  in  his  walk,  and  putting  aside  the  tapestry 
opened  a  secret  closet  in  the  wall.  From  this  he  took  a  jewel 
case,  and  seating  himself  near  the  venerable  Lollard  he  drew  out 
a  glittering  necklace.  It  was  composed  of  twenty-four  diamonds 
of  wonderful  brilliancy,  each  set  in  a  framework  of  gold  shaped 
like  an  open  lily.  The  gold  work  was  of  exceeding  delicacy  and 
beauty,  and  the  precious  gems  were  set  in  the  opening  cups  of  the 
gold  lilies,  the  double  clasp  being  covered  with  emeralds  of  unu 
sual  size.  There  were  spots  of  blood  disfiguring  the  necklace  and 
bedim m ing  the  flashing  stones. 


TEE  PROPHECY.  81 

"  Thou  seest  this  accursed  bauble,"  said  the  knight,  u  aiid  canst 
estimate  its  value  better  than  I.  Know,  Father  Kalph,  that  the 
rumour  of  this  toy  reached  me  at  Azincourt,  and  the  insane  desire 
to  possess  it  mduced  my  foray,  which  ended  in  the  fall  of  the  f )as- 
tle  De  Lys.  Perhaps  the  possession  of  these  jewels  inspired  the 
owners  to  resist  to  the  death,  and  certes,  the  foul  greed  that  pos 
sessed  me  in  that  fierce  fray  was  begotten  of  the  fiend.  I  need 
not  tell  thee  that  it  is  hateful  to  mine  eyes.  And  now  I  pray  thee 
take  it  into  thy  keeping.  It  has  been  in  the  custody  of  its  rightful 
owner,  the  mother  of  my  lost  heir,  and  now  it  belongs  to  him. 
Take  thou  the  charge  and  tell  thy  faithful  son,  who  is  now  wan 
dering  in  Scotland,  the  story,  that  he  may  assume  the  charge  after 
thee.  I  repent  me  now  that  I  consented  to  his  departure  from  the 
Keep." 

"  Better  to  entrust  both  jewels  and  story  to  Hester.  She  is  a 
wise  maiden.  The  dangers  that  threaten  me  and  her  brother  will 
not  reach  her;  and  it  is  through  her  agency  chiefly  that  I  hope 
to  find  the  child.  Thou  wilt  remember  also  that  the  accident  of 
gentle  birth  is  in  her  favour,  though  I  have  learned,  and  thou 
also,  I  trust,  that  no  birth  is  gentle  save  the  new  birth.  Howbeit 
the  Lady  Hester  Langley  can  gain  entrance  into  houses  wher3 
Ralph  the  Lollard  would  ne'er  be  welcome." 

"  Thy  daughter  is  even  now  in  the  chamber  above,"  replied  the 
knight ;  "  do  as  seemeth  good  to  thee.  Tell  her  the  sad  story  and 
give  the  jewels  to  her  keeping.  Canst  thou  not  exert  thy  skill 
and  give  me  an  hour  of  sleep  P 

"  Doubtless,"  replied  the  Lollard.  He  took  a  vial  from  his  vest, 
and  with  steady  hand  dropped  a  small  quantity  of  liquid  into  a 
cup  of  wine.  "Drink  this,  noble  sir,  and  betake  thee  to  thy 
couch.  Slumber  will  steal  upon  thee  anon,  and  I  will  watch  here 
while  thou  sleepest.  I  have  rare  entertainment  at  hand — even  a 
true  copy  of  a  Gospel,  which  yonder  benighted  monk,  from  whose 
power  tiiou  deliveredst  me,  had  with  him.  Strange  that  he  should 
extract  lessons  of  cruelty  and  idolatry  from  such  a  source !" 

Sir  Kanald  drank  the  composing  draught,  and  unbuckling  his 
sword-belt  he  stretched  himself  upon  the  couch.  The  Lollard  drew 
the  taper  behind  the  knight's  helmet,  casting  the  couch  into  shadow, 
and  producing  his  precious  parchment  was  speedily' engrossed  in 
its  contents.  The  deep  breathing  of  Sir  Ranald  soon  proved  the 
potency  of  the  preacher's  drug.  The  noises  of  the  Keep  sunk  into 
silence,  excepting  the  clash  of  armour  as  the  sentinel  turned  in  his 

6 


82  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

monotonous  walk  upon  the  outer  wall.  As  the  night  drew  on  the 
wind  rose,  increasing  in  volume  until  it  grew  into  a  furious  storm. 
The  thunder  roared  and  rattled,  the  lightning  gleamed,  the  rain 
lashed  the  walls  of  the  tower,  but  the  sleeper  slept  and  the  student 
read,  each  unconscious  of  the  warfare  of  the  elements.  The  dia 
monds  were  lying  in  the  open  case,  also  shaded  by  the  helm,  but 
to  each  flash  of  the  lightning,  as  it  came  in  at  the  lattice,  the  jew 
els  responded  with  n  shower  of  rays,  like  sparks  from  an  anvil. 
So  prompt  was  the  response,  so  vivid  the  answering  flash,  that 
the  preacher's  attention  was  attracted,  and  he  laid  aside  his  manu 
script  and  watched  the  gems  with  eager  curiosity.  Although  far 
above  the  current  superstition  of  the  time,  the  Lollard  was  some 
how  impressed  with  the  idea  that  something  weird  and  uncanny 
attached  to  the  jewels,  and  he  stretched  out  his  hand  to  close  the 
case.  At  the  instant  there  was  a  long,  blazing  flash  of  lightning, 
accompanied  with  a  terrific  roar  of  thunder,  that  seemed  to  shake 
the  solid  Keep  to  its  foundation  stone.  The  old  man  glanced  at 
the  couch  and  saw  Sir  Ranald  starting  up,  his  countenance  looking 
ghastly  in  the  glare  of  the  lightning  and  his  hand  pointing  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  chamber.  Turning  his  eyes  in  the  direction 
indicated,  the  Lollard  saw  a  sight  that  seemed  to  freeze  the  life 
currents  in  his  veins. 

The  tapestry  was  drawn  aside,  the  heavy  folds  held  in  the  white 
hand  of  the  Countess  De  Lys.  She  was  attired  in  a  long  white 
robe,  a  dark  crimson  spot  staining  the  right  side.  An  arrow  in 
her  right  hand,  with  blood  stains  on  its  barb  and  feather,  all  visi 
ble  in  the  momentary  glare  of  the  lightning,  was  pointed  at  the 
couch  occupied  by  her  lord.  A  fold  of  white  linen  was  bound 
upon  her  forehead,  and  her  long  black  hair  fell  over  her  shoulders. 
Her  pallid  lips  moved,  and  while  the  Keep  vibrated  and  the  sub 
siding  roar  of  the  thunder  formed  a  hideous  accompaniment,  both 
knight  and  Lollard  heard  each  sentence  she  uttered : 

"  <6mpurpleb  witl)  bloob  braum  from  kinsman's  uein, 
®lje  curse-cumbereb  jewels  tljcir  stain  bo  retain 
Still  tl;e  salt  manes  of  ocean  sljall  tuasl;  out  tlje  stain ! 

Ijiretl)  ttcb  .Seep,  of  tljc  Ciuji's  strain, 
store  anb  a  Ijalf  score  mnji  neuer  attain, 
ll  tlje  tower  ano  tlje  last  of  tljc  i'acg  name 

pass  from  t!;e  eartl)  amib  tempest  ano  flame !" 

The  words  issued  from  her  lips  in  a  dull  monotone,  and  as  she 
concluded,  another  blinding  flash  illuminated  the  chamber,  and 


THE  PROPHECY.  83 

again  the  Keep  shook  under  the  crash  of  the  thunder.  Her  black 
eyes  glared  upon  the  appalled  listeners  an  instant  longer,  and 
then  the  tapestry  fell  into  its  place,  and  they  were  alone.  Sir 
Eanald  fell  back  upon  the  couch,  and  the  Lollard,  drawing  an 
inkhorn  from  his  pouch,  rapidly  wrote  down  the  words  of  this 
weird  prophecy  while  they  were  still  ringing  in  his  ears.  When 
he  had  finished  he  placed  the  parchment  in  the  box  with  the  neck 
lace,  which  he  closed  and  deposited  in  his  pouch. 

The  knight  collected  his  confused  faculties,  and  rose  from  the 
couch  while  the  preacher  was  still  writing,  and,  after  a  brief 
pause,  motioned  the  old  man  to  follow  him.  Taking  the  taper  in 
his  hand  he  led  the  way  to  the  stair,  and  the  two  ascended  to  the 
death  chamber  above.  The  body  of  the  countess  was  upon  the 
bed,  cold  and  lifeless.  The  knight  laid  his  hand  tenderly  upon 
her  brow,  and  could  scarcely  believe  the  testimony  of  his  senses 
when  he  felt  the  cold,  smooth  surface,  and  saw  the  unmistakable 
tokens  of  death.  The  bloody  arrow,  which  had  been  drawn  from 
her  side,  was  lying  on  a  settle,  near  the  bed.  Hester  Langley 
was  kneeling  at  the  bed  foot,  her  face  resting  upon  her  arms  in 
peaceful  slumber. 

"  What  thinkest  thou,  good  father?"  said  Sir  Eanald.  "  Did 
we  see  that  vision  but  now,  and  hear  those  fearful  words,  or  are 
we  both  crazed  f 

"I  cannot  answer  thee,  noble  sir,''  replied  the  Lollard.  "I 
have  written  down  the  words  I  heard,  or  thought  I  heard.  I 
cannot  think  we  have  both  been  deluded  by  the  same  wild 
dream.  What  sawest  thou  H" 

"  I  saw  my  wife  standing  in  the  chamber  below,  with  the  shaft 
in  her  hand.  I  heard  the  words  thou  hast  written.  I  saw  them 
overlooking  thee  while  thou  wast  writing.  If  I  dared  to  yield  to 
my  most  earnest  longing  I  should  spend  the  remainder  of  my  days 
in  solitar3r  vigils,  like  those  benighted  worshippers  whose  creed 
we  abhor !  Surely  there  remain  for  me  no  more  deeds  of  knightly 
prowess.  The  hand  that  sped  yonder  fatal  shaft  is  bereft  of  its 
cunning.  The  ear  that  hath  heard  those  words  of  doom  is  deaf 
henceforth  to  the  sound  of  trump.  Naught  remaineth  for  me  but 
the  swift  fulfilment  of  her  grewsome  word.  l  A  score  and  a  half 
score.'  There  are  three  or  four  dreary  years  between  ine  and 
that  attainment." 

Ladies,  the  story  of  the  Ked  Lacy  is  almost  ended.  Two  years 
later  he  married  the  Lady  Hester  Laugley.  As  nothing  was 


84  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

heard  of  his  first-born  son,  at  his  death,  which  occurred  a  year 
after  his  second  marriage,  Ralph  Lacy,  the  infant  son  of  the  Lady 
Hester,  was  the  acknowledged  heir  of  Lacy  Keep. 


CHAPTEE  XI. 
THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

I  SHOULD  have  said  at  the  beginning,  that  I  repeat  all  this 
long  story  just  as  I  heard  it.  The  Lady  Mary,  Mr.  Barston's 
mother,  told  me  the  most  that  I  have  told  you,  and  have  yet  to 
tell.  The  Red  Lacy,  as  Sir  Ranald  was  universally  named,  re 
linquished  all  his  warlike  habits,  and  lived  the  life  of  a  hermit, 
very  zealous  for  the  Lollard  faith,  and  at  the  last  a  preacher  of 
note  among  these  persecuted  people.  It  is  said  that  he  was  killed 
by  a  kinsman  of  Sir  Hubert  Vane,  who  was  hunting  heretics  by 
authority  of  Henry  V.  in  the  last  year  of  his  reign.  The  knight 
was  found  at  the  edge  of  the  dark  wood  yonder  with  a  cloth-yard 
shaft  through  his  body. 

Twenty-five  years  later  a  gay  cavalcade  appeared  beneath  the 
walls  of  Lacy  Keep,  then  occupied  by  Lady  Hester  Lacy  and  her 
son.  At  the  head  of  the  brilliant  array  was  a  young  knight,  who 
demanded  possession,  as  the  Signior  Henry  De  Lacy,  the  first  born 
of  the  fighting  Lollard.  The  claim  was  haughtily  rejected  by  the 
lady  and  her  son,  Sir  Ralph.  The  new  claimant  then  demanded 
the  jewels  of  the  Countess  De  Lys,  offering  to  relinquish  his 
claims  to  the  Lacy  lands  if  these  were  surrendered.  In  those 
days  the  value  of  the  diamonds  was  very  far  greater  than  that  of 
all  the  lands.  This  also  was  refused,  and  the  new  comers  pre 
pared  to  assault  the  Keep.  The  fight  was  prevented  by  the 
appearance  of  Sir  Ralph  upon  the  wall,  who  demanded  a  parley. 
The  resemblance  between  the  two  knights  was  apparent  as  they 
stood  face  to  face,  each  scowling  upon  the  other.  The  object  of 
the  parley  was  to  propose  a  settlement  of  their  rival  claims  by 
single  combat.  This  was  so  accurately  in  accord  with  the  senti 
ment  of  the  time  that  the  proposal  was  immediately  accepted,  and 
Sir  Ralph  rode  forth  from  the  court  yard  sheathed  in  armor,  with 
the  fatal  necklace  glittering  upon  his  plumed  crest.  Their  lances 
were  laid  aside  by  common  consent,  and  they  rushed  upon  each 
other  with  sword  and  dagger.  The  elder  born  was  killed,  and  the 


THE  LACY  DIAMONDS.  85 

other,  sorely  wounded,  was  carried  into  the  Keep  to  die.  The 
knights  who  had  accompanied  Sir  Henry  informed  the  lady  that 
his  widow  and  twin  sons  were  in  London,  and  before  Sir  Ralph 
died  he  urgently  entreated  his  mother  to  yield  the  Keep  and 
lands  to  them,  the  rightful  heirs.  These  half  brothers  also  were 
laid  side  by  side  in  the  cemetery  which  now  belongs  to  Morton 
Priory,  and  they  are  the  last  of  the  old  stock  interred  in  Devon 
shire. 

The  next  step  in  this  catalogue  of  deaths  was  the  sad  fate  of  the 
twin  brothers,  Halberd  and  Hugh.  They  had  entered  the  service 
of  the  rival  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster,  and  in  the  wars  of  the 
Roses  they  met  at  St.  Albans'  under  shield,  and  Sir  Halberd  fell. 
His  brother,  who  did  not  inherit  the  Keep,  escaped  the  Lacy  curse, 
and  lived  to  see  Henry  VII  upon  the  throne  of  England  and  two 
generations  of  the  elder  branch  laid  in  early  graves.  In  all  the 
contests  the  jewels  were  somehow  the  bone  of  contention  between 
rival  kinsmen,  and  so  continued  until  they  passed  out  of  the 
family  nearly  a  hundred  years  ago.  They  were  secured  by  wall  to 
a  Lady  Lacy  in  the  reign  of  George  III,  and  she  married  a  Sir 
Mark  Denhani  after  the  death  of  her  first  husband,  and  so  the 
jewels  are  gone.  I  have  heard  that  the  Deuhams  took  them  to 
America,  and  there  is  some  legend  about  their  death  in  a  wild 
part  of  that  country,  where  they  were  seeking  the  diamonds  which 
had  been  lost.  I  do  not  know  the  particulars  j  but  I  am  thankful 
to  say  they  are  gone.  There  are  the  gentlemen  on  the  lawn. 

"  Ladies,"  said  Lord  Morton,  "  if  you  intend  to  dine  at  Morton 
Priory  you  will  have  to  begin  your  return  journey  at  once.  I 
have  ordered  the  carriage." 

"  We  will  join  you  immediately,"  replied  Lady  Morton.  "  Mrs. 
Froome,  we  have  been  deeply  interested  in  your  story,  and  some 
day  I  may  tell  you  the  sequel.  At  present  we  must  leave  Lacy 
Keep " 

"  Look  at  Sir  Ranald  first,  my  lady,"  said  Mrs.  Froome.  She 
drew  the  curtain  from  the  picture,  and  the  three  ladies  looked 
with  curiosity  and  with  a  certain  trepidation  at  the  face  of  the  Red 
Lacy.  It  was  a  sad  countenance,  not  repulsive  as  they  expected, 
but  positively  handsome  but  for  a  scar  upon  the  forehead  which 
the  painter  had  probably  exaggerated. 

"  It  was  painted  after  his  second  marriage,"  said  Mrs.  Frooine. 
"  He  was  called  the  most  dcbonnairc  of  the  English  knights  at 
Azincourt.  I  like  to  look  at  him.  But  there  is  not  the  least  re 
semblance  to  Sir  John.  Do  you  see  any  ?" 


86  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Not  the  slightest !"  said  the  three  ladies  with  a  little  shiver. 

Before  they  descended,  Miss  Tamwortb.  and  Ret  made  an  ex 
change  of  apparel.  That  is,  Miss  Hanvood  assumed  the  riding 
habit  and  Clare  took  her  place  in  the  carriage.  The  old  time 
story  they  had  heard  was  still  on  the  minds  of  the  ladies,  and  of 
course  was  also  on  their  tongues. 

"Do  you  remember,  Herbert,  any  story  about  the  Lacy  dia 
monds'?"  said  Lady  Morton,  as  they  rolled  through  the  lodge 
gates. 

"Ah!"  answered  Lord  Morton,  "Mrs.  Froome  has  been  at  her 
old  tricks !  Yes,  I  have  heard  her  story  at  second  hand.  My 
dear  friend  and  cousin,  Sir  Charles  Harwood,  told  me  the  old 
legend.  He  had  learned  it  from  Barstou's  mother,  the  Lady 
Mary,  as  she  was  called;  and  since  his  death  I  have  heard  it 
substantially  from  her.  She  was  the  sister  of  the  late  Sir  Elbert 
Lacy,  John's  father,  Miss  Clare." 

"Yes,  I  know.  But  you  have  some  more  recent  history  of  the 
jewels,  have  you  not  '?" 

"Yes.  They  came  into  my  family  and  now  belong  to  Lady 
Morton.  They  were  left  by  will  to  my  grandmother,  and  my 
father  was  her  heir.  The  testatrix  was  the  second  wife  of  Sir 
Mark  Denham,  and  the  diamonds  were  claimed  by  his  son  with- 
but  any  shadow  of  right.  My  father  thought  of  emigrating  to 
America,  and  these  jewels  with  other  valuables  were  taken  there." 

"You  seem  reluctant  to  speak  about  them,"  said  Miss  Tarn- 
worth.  "  I  hope  you  will  pardon  my  question,  if  it  was  indiscreet, 
and  forget  it.  How  beautifully  Eet  rides!  You  can  see  her 
there  through  the  glade.  She  is  flirting  with  Sir  John  abomi 
nably  !" 

"  Dismiss  your  fears,"  said  Lady  Morton,  gayly,  "  Eet  will  keep 
within  bounds.  She  would  require  a  week  to  get  even  with  you. 
My  dear,  Clare  has  heard  so  much  about  the  diamonds  that  she 
is  devoured  with  curiosity  to  hear  more.  Do  you  object  to  con 
tinue  the  story  f 

"Not  at  all.  It  is  rather  sad  in  some  parts  of  it.  This  Den- 
ham,  the  son  of  Sir  Mark,  and  a  younger  son,  by  the  way,  went  to 
Louisiana  in  search  of  the  jewels,  accompanied  by  his  son.  They 
were  hidden  in  a  grove,  and  he  had  somehow  got  an  inkling  of 
the  locality.  However,  he  became  involved  in  some  political  plot 
and  was  hanged,  with  his  son,  on  one  of  the  trees  in  the  identical 
grove.  The  jewels  were  there  for  a  whole  generation.  By  a  very 


THE  LACY  DIAMONDS.  87 

remarkable  concatenation  of  circumstances  I  also  learned  some 
thing  about  the  probable  locality,  and  found  them." 

"  Did  the  old  fate  attend  them  ?  I  mean  was  there  any  '  kin 
blood  '  shed  in  the  effort  to  reclaim  them  V 

Lord  Morton  started. 

"  I  had  forgotten  about  that  legend!"  he  said.  Yes,  there  cer 
tainly  was.  A  near  kinsman  of  my  own,  then  unknown  to  me, 
tried  to  kill  me,  and  very  nearly  succeeded  !  He  was  undoubtedly 
searching  for  the  diamonds  when  the  fray  occurred,  and  so  wasl." 

"  Did  you  kill  him?"  said  Miss  Tarn  worth,  timidly. 

"No.  Heaven  be  praised!  I  wounded  him  severely.  We 
fought  with  swords.  In  that  country  at  that  time  it  was  custom 
ary  to  carry  arms.  We  botli  had  sword  canes.  He  assaulted  me, 
and  in  defending  myself  I  wounded  him.  He  was  killed  by  a  rifle 
bullet,  however,  at  the  end  of  our  encounter.  The  shot  was  prob 
ably  fired  by  an  Indian  whom  he  had  maltreated." 

"  And  the  diamonds  ?" 

"  Were  dug  up  afterwards.  Lady  Morton  wore  them  on  her 
wedding  day.  I  have  never  seen  them  since." 

"  I  will  show  them  to  you  some  time,  Glare,"  said  Lady  Morton. 
"At  present  they  are  in  London." 

u  Were  they  not  injured  during  their  long  burial  f ' 

"  No.  They,  with  other  valuables,  were  enclosed  in  a  box  that 
was  covered  with  sheet  lead  and  perfectly  impervious.  We  have 
passed  the  equestrians,  who  are  lagging  behind  us." 

" My  Lady,"  said  Clare,  "pardon  me  just  this  last  time !  I  saw 
Ret  when  she  was  presented,  you  know.  She  had  a  lovely  brooch 
and  earrings.  The  former  was  in  the  shape  of  three  lilies,  with 
the  diamonds  in  the  bells  of  the  flowers.  The  earrings  were  single 
lilies,  exactly  matching  the  brooch.  Are  these  part  of  the  famous 
Lacy  diamonds  ?" 

"  Yes  and  no  !  They  were  included  in  the  inventory  which  Lord 
Morton  received,  but  I  have  since  learned  that  they  were  added 
by  Lady  Denham,  who  was  very  rich.  The  original  jewels  were 
only  those  of  the  necklace,  and  they  are  larger  and  finer  than  those 
you  saw." 

"Well,  I  am  truly  glad  of  that !  They  are  so  lovely !  and  it  is  a 
comfort  to  think  that  the  horrid  curse  don't  attach  to  them !" 

The  gentlemen  laughed  at  this  sally. 

"  Would  you  not  wear  the  necklace,  Miss  Clare  ?"  said  the  Rec 
tor.  "  Suppose  they  should  be  left  to  you  by  will " 


88  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Never !"  said  Miss  Tarn  worth,  with  a  little  shudder.  "  You 
may  laugh  as  much  as  you  please.  But  I  believe  every  word  of 
that  story,  and  I  would  as  soon  put  a  snake  around  my  neck  as  the 
Lacy  diamonds." 


CHAPTER    XII. 
Two  HAPPY  FELLOWS. 

AT  the  Eectory  in  Lavington  there  was  a  cosy  chamber  known 
as  "  The  Swiss  Boy's  Den."  Mr.  Barston,  whose  habits  were 
somewhat  erratic,  was  the  proprietor  of  this  apartment,  which  was 
kept  in  scrupulous  order.  In  one  corner  was  a  most  elaborate  col 
lection  of  fishing  tackle.  In  another,  two  or  three  guns  and  some 
curiosities  in  the  shape  of  outlandish  arms.  Along  one  entire  side 
of  the  room  were  some  book  cases  well  filled  with  volumes  which 
Barstou  had  culled  from  the  large  library  at  Oakland.  His  father 
had  been  a  great  student,  and  Lacy  walked  in  his  footsteps.  Oak 
land  was  also  a  bachelor  establishment  and  the  ostensible  home 
of  the  "  Swiss,"  but  Parson  Johnny  pleaded  so  piteously  for  com 
panionship  that  Barston  had  by  degrees  grown  into  the  habit  of 
living  with  him  the  larger  half  of  his  time.  He  was  swallowed  up 
in  legal  studies,  and  was  making  famous  progress. 

On  the  morning  succeeding  the  visit  to  the  Bed  Hall,  Barston 
was  seated  at  the  table  in  his  "  den,"  deeply  engrossed  in  a  formal 
looking  letter  which  had  just  arrived.  The  Eector  was  out  visit 
ing  a  sick  parishioner.  There  was  a  glow  of  contentment  on  the 
handsome  countenance  of  our  hero — there,  it  is  out !  The  author 
did  not  intend  to  announce  him  so  early,  but  his  gentle  readers 
have  already  discovered  that  Lacy  Barston  is  the  hero  of  this 
story.  It  is  hoped,  however,  that  the  identity  of  the  heroine  is  not 
so  apparent.  The  author  will  be  very  cautious  and  envelope  her 
in  mystery  as  long  as  possible.  While  Barston  was  thus  engaged, 
the  hall  door  was  closed  with  a  bang,  and  corning  up  the  staircase 
three  steps  at  a  time,  Sir  John  Lacy  burst  into  the  den. 

"  Swiss !  I  have  been  looking  for  you.  It  is  jolly  to  find  you 
here.  I  have  something  to  tell  you !  Botheration  on  your  letters ! 
You  can  read  them  after.  I  am  too  happy  to  wait !" 

"My  letter  contains  good  news,  Jack.  I  also  am  happy  this 
morning." 


TWO  HAPPY  FELLOWS.  89 

"  Shake  hands  then,  old  fellow !  We  are  two  jolly  dogs  together. 
May  I  tell  ray  story  first  F 

"  Certainly,"  answered  Swiss.  "  Here,  take  this  stuffy  old  chair- 
Put  your  long  legs  over  this  one.  So !  Now  fire  away  while  I 
hunt  a  weed." 

"  Never  mind,  the  weed,  Swiss,  but  listen.  Just  get  behind  me 
so  as  not  to  see  my  blushes  !  Oh,  Swiss !  1  think  I  have  got  her ! 

"  Got  whom  !"  said  Barston,  moving  behind  him. 

"  Ret,  Ret,  Ret  Harwood !  My  beauty,  my  darling,  my  darling 
Ret !  Oh,  Swiss,  if  I  should  be  mistaken  I  am  lost  forever !" 

The  bright  glow  passed  away  from  the  joyous  face  behind  him, 
and  a  cloud  of  unspeakable  agony  settled  down  upon  the  broad 
forehead.  Then  lifting  his  blue  eyes  to  the  ceiling,  as  if  in  piteous 
appeal  for  strength  to  endure,  and  then  smoothing  his  thick  beard 
over  his  quivering  lips,  and  with  the  dauntless  air  of  a  tried  war 
rior,  he  came  round  in  the  light  and  faced  his  happy  friend. 

"  Let  me  hear  your  whole  story,  Jack,"  he  said  steadily.  "  Maybe 
I  can  judge  better  than  you  what  the  chances  are." 

"  I  can  hardly  tell  you P  said  the  excited  baronet.  "  I  only  know 
that  I  love  her  so  desperately  that  she  must  be  mine !  You  know 
we  went  to  the  Hall  yesterday  1  Well,  she  came  back  with  me  on 
horseback.  Oh,  how  she  rides — like  a  Ceutauress,  Swiss  !  Well, 
she  found  I  was  spoony  and  did  not  repulse  me !  I  ventured  to 
say  two  or  three  things  about  settling  at  the  Hall,  and  about  the 
future  Lady  Lacy — and,  and,  I  can't  tell  you  all  the  foolery  I  talked. 
But  she  listened,  Swiss,  and  listened  kindly.  I  told  her  lots  about 
you  and  your  goodness — and " 

"And  what  F 

"And  that  I  thought  you  would  make  love  to  Clare  if  you  were 
not  so  confoundedly  proud  of  your  l  poverty,'  as  you  call  it,  and  so 
determined  not  to  marry  a  rich  woman  !" 

"  Did  you  F 

"  Yes.  She  says  Clare  would  be  a  priceless  treasure  to  any  man 
if  she  were  penniless.  Those  were  her  very  words  !  Well,  I  dined 
at  the  Priory,  you  know.  And  after  dinner  we  had  music.  And 
then  a  promenade  on  the  terrace,  and  I  talked  some  more  foolery, 
and  she  listened !  Oh,  Swiss,  if  I  were  not  so  far  gone,  if  everything 
were  not  at  stake,  I  should  feel  confident." 

"  What  do  you  intend  to  do,  Jack  F  said  Barstou. 

"  I  can't  do  anything  until  I  talk  to  Lord  Morton.  And,  Swiss, 
who  is  there  in  the  world  to  take  my  case  in  hand  but  you !  You, 


90  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

who  have  stood  by  me — brother,  friend,  father  almost.  You,  who 
have  delivered  me  out  of  troubles  scores  of  times,  saved  me  from 
the  consequences  of  my  follies — stood  between  me  and  death  more 
than  once !  And  now,  that  I  am  menaced  with  something  worse 
than  death,  to  whom  can  I  go  but  to  you !" 

As  he  spoke  he  rose  and  laid  his  arm  on  the  shoulder  of  his 
kinsman  and  hid  his  face  upon  it.  The  warrior  forgot  his  wouuds, 
though  they  were  bleeding,  and  laying  his  hand  on  the  head  of  his 
agitated  cousin,  his  kind  eyes  filling,  he  answered  him, 

"  Dear  Jack,  you  can  rely  upon  me.  What  man  can  do  I  will 
do  for  you.  I  cannot  imagine  any  reason  why  the  course  of  your 
love  should  not  run  smooth.  It  shall  if  I  cau  make  it  so,  God 
helping  me !" 

The  young  men  resumed  their  seats,  and  Sir  John  remained 
silent,  a  little  ashamed  of  the  emotion  he  had  displayed.  His 
companion  rested  his  head  upon  his  hand  and  meditated. 

"  Jack,"  said  he  at  length,  "  let  us  understand  one  another.  I 
never  had  any  serious  thoughts  about  Miss  Tamworth.  It  is  not 
my  poverty — but  you  have  not  heard  my  news." 

"  No !  what  a  selfish  fellow  I  am !  I  forgot  you  had  good  news 
too.  What  is  iU" 

"  This  letter,"  replied  Barston,  handing  it  across  the  table,  u  is 
from  Parchment.  It  announces  the  death  of  my  grand  uncle,  Miles 
Barston,  and  my  inheritance  of  his  estate.  I  am  not  poor  now." 

"  Why  that  is  the  old  Indian  who  wanted  to  repair  Oakland." 

"  Yes.  He  died  suddenly.  Parchment  authorizes  me  to  draw 
upon  him  for  any  amount  up  to  fifty  thousand  pounds.  He  says 
the  estate  will  yield  much  more." 

"I  congratulate  you,  Swiss,  with  all  my  heart.  If  somebody 
would  only  die  and  leave  me  such  a  lot  of  tin  I  should  feel  more 
confident  about  my  wooing." 

"  For  shame,  Jack  !  How  can  you  say  or  think  anything  so  un 
gracious  either  of  Lord  Morton  or  his  daughter !" 

"  I  only  meant  that  I  should  feel  myself  a  better  parti?  replied 
Sir  John,  a  little  abashed.  "  I  have  no  idea  of  my  own  pecuniary 
condition.  Lord  Morton  has  had  charge  of  my  interests  since 
uncle  died.  I  shall  not  have  to  give  a  list  of  my  possessions  to 
him,  fortunately,  as  he  will  have  to  give  the  list  to  me  shortly." 

"  You  will  have  a  good  estate,  I  fancy,"  said  Barstou.  "  There 
has  been  a  long  minority,  and  both  my  father  and  Lord  Morton 
have  managed  judiciously.  I  know  the  mortgages  are  all  paid  off." 


TWO  HAPPY  FELLOWS.  91 

"  I  don't  care  about  estates !  If  I  owned  this  entire  island  I 
would  cheerfully  give  it  for  a  kind  word  from  Ket.  Must  I  tell 
her  that  I  was  mistaken  about  you  and  Miss  Tain  worth  '!" 

"  Yes  !  No !  don't  say  anything-  about  it.  It  is  damaging  to  a 
young  woman  to  be  talked  about  in  that  way.  When  I  get  spoony 
I'll  tell  you  in  time.  Where  are  you  going  f 

"  Back  to  the  Priory.    Won't  you  come  with  me  ?" 

"  Not  to-day.  1  must  ride  in  another  direction.  Did  you  know 
that  I  had  Eoland  down  here  ?  Yes ;  Parson  Johnny  sent  for  him 
yesterday,  and  he  is  dancing  about  in  the  stable  yonder,  dying  for  a 
good  gallop.  I  am  going  down  to  the  coast.  You  know  I  have  a 
piece  of  land  there.  Here  are  my  riding  boots,  too.  How  kind 
and  thoughtful  Parson  Johnny  is.  Do  you  know,  Jack,  that  he  is 
about  the  best  man  alive  f 

"No  I  don't,  but  I  do  know  who  is.  It  is  Lacy -Barston,  and  I 
am  ready  to  maintain  it  on  foot  or  horseback,  with  lance  or  sword, 
with  cudgel  or  fist,  or  any  other  way  you  choose.  There  lies  my 
gauntlet!"  He  dashed  his  glove  down  on  the  floor,  shook  his 
cousin's  hand  warmly  again,  then  picked  up  the  gage  of  battle  and 
ran  down  stairs. 

Barston  followed  him  more  deliberately.  Sir  John's  horse  was 
at  the  door.  As  he  mounted  Barston  called  to  him  to  wait  until 
Eoland  was  saddled,  as  their  way  lay  together  to  the  end  of  the 
village. 

Eoland  wasted  an  enormous  amount  of  equine  energy  as  his 
rider  curbed  him,  making  him  shorten  his  strides  so  long  as  they 
were  in  the  street. 

"  It's  a  bright  day,  Swiss,"  said  the  baronet,  "  everything  looks 
jolly.  Eolaud  is  mad  for  a  canter.  There  is  a  good  lot  of  happiness 
in  the  world,  Swiss,  after  all." 

"  Happiness,  Jack,  is  said  to  be  a  flower  or  a  fruit  that  can  never 
be  graffed.  It  comes  only  from  one  root,  and  cannot  be  cultivated 
except  about  the  root." 

"  And  the  root !» 

"  Is  Duty.  You  may  meditate  upon  that  bit  of  philosophy  as 
you  ride.  I  promise  you  I  will.  Good  bye." 

"  Stop,  Swiss !  I  don't  know  so  much  about  your  philosophy 
and  your  roots,  but  I  do  know  if  there  are  two  real  happy  fellows 
in  England  they  are  here,  just  about  to  part.  Away  with  you !" 


92  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

CHAPTEE    XIII. 

EBENEZER. 

~O  OLAISTD  snorted  with  delight  as  his  rider  turned  out  of  the 
-l-\>  long  street,  and  shaking  his  rein  loosely,  started  away  over  the 
downs  in  a  mad  gallop.  They  were  great  friends,  Eoland  and  Swiss, 
and  had  passed  through  some  rough  experiences  together  in  the 
Crimea.  That  both  of  them  came  out  of  that  little  adventure  with 
out  a  scratch,  was  one  of  the  marvels  of  the  age  to  all  who  knew 
their  history.  On  the  part  of  Barston  the  perils  he  encountered  and 
evaded  were  not  by  any  means  selected.  He  had  no  dare-devil 
recklessness  about  him.  But  there  was  a  calm  philosophy,  per 
fectly  genuine, 'that  superficial  people  called  fatalism,  which  made 
him  totally  indifferent  about  results  when  he  was  working  out  a 
definite  purpose.  He  omitted  no  needful  precautions.  For  in 
stance,  he  had  a  thick  steel  plate  seven  or  eight  inches  in  diame 
ter  securely  fastened  over  his  left  breast,  completely  defending  his 
heart,  and  he  always  wore  it  under  his  vest  when  he  went  into  bat 
tle.  "  You  see,"  he  said  in  explanation,  "  those  Cossack  fellows 
with  their  confounded  long  poles  might  poke  one  suddenly,  and  it 
is  not  on  the  sword  arm  side."  There  was  always  a  method  about  his 
"  whimsicalities,"  of  which  he  had  any  quantity. 

All  the  country  between  Lavington  and  the  coast  was  perfectly 
familiar  to  him.  He  rode  through  shady  lanes,  sometimes  cutting 
off  a  mile  by  leaping  a  hedge  and  riding  across  wide  fields,  where 
the  odour  of  the  hay  cocks  was  like  the  breezes  from  the  Spice 
Islands.  It  was  high  noon  when  he  reached  a  farm  house  half  a 
mile  from  the  little  arm  of  the  channel  that  washed  his  land.  A 
boy  with  a  long  cut  across  his  face,  filled  with  white  teeth,  met 
him  in  the  lane. 

"Sarvaut,  Master  Lacy,"  said  the  youth,  pulling  at  a  lock  of 
flaxen  hair  in  lieu  of  a  hat ;  "  be  ye  goiii'  to  the  'ouse  ?" 

"  Not  now,  Tommy.  Are  you  all  well  ?  So,  Eoland !"  and  he  dis 
mounted.  "Here  Tommy,  mount!"  and  catching  the  boy  under 
the  shoulder  he  swung  him  into  the  saddle.  "  Now  ride  gently, 
Tommy.  Put  Eoland  in  the  stable  and  give  him  a  mouthful  of  hay, 
and  an  hour  hence  some  oats.  Tell  your  mother  I  hope  to  find  a 
curd  when  I  come  back.  I  am  going  down  to  the  water.  It  is 
now  twelve  and  a  half.  I  expect  to  be  back  by  two  o'clock." 


EBENEZEE.  93 

As  the  boy  trotted  down  the  lane  Barston  crossed  a  stile  into 
the  meadow.  At  the  other  side  the  ground  fell  away,  and  in  the 
descent  to  the  coast  became  more  broken  and  rocky.  A  small 
stream  ran  along  the  edge  of  the  meadow,  and  Barston  followed  its 
windings,  through  stunted  bushes  and  over  rough  stones,  until  the 
sea  burst  into  sight  as  he  cleared  the  covert.  At  this  point  the 
streamlet  plunged  over  the  rock,  falling  eight  or  ten  feet,  and  then 
by  a  succession  of  small  cascades  reached  the  belt  of  sand  which 
the  tide  left  uncovered.  The  head  of  the  first  fall  was  fully  sixty 
feet  above  the  sea  level.  Swiss  clambered  down  the  face  of 
the  rock  and  with  cautious  footsteps  at  last  reached  a  wild  plat 
form  about  half  way  down,  where  the  water  was  collected  in  a  lit 
tle  pool.  All  around  was  the  solid  rock,  and  the  large,  flat  stone 
at  the  bottom  of  the  pool  had  been  worn  smooth  by  the  floods  of 
ages.  At  the  times  of  heavy  rainfalls,  a  furious  torrent  roared 
through  this  rocky  defile,  and  all  the  earth  was  washed  from  the 
rocks,  which  stood  in  fantastic  shapes  on  every  side.  It  is  proba 
ble  that  no  mortal  foot  had  ever  reached  this  nook  of  the  earth 
except  Lacy  Barston's.  It  was  almost  inaccessible  either  from 
above  or  below. 

He  threw  his  felt  hat  on  a  projecting  crag,  and  drew  off  his  long 
boots,  and  then  stretching  his  body  face  downwards  on  the  broad 
flat  rock  at  the  edge  of  the  pool,  he  gave  some  slight  vent  to  the 
agonies  he  had  been  suffering  for  hours.  No  human  eye  could  see 
him  here;  no  human  ear  could  hear  his  groans.  The  plash  of 
the  rill  tumbling  from  the  rock  above  him,  and  the  gentle  murmur 
of  the  stream  as  it  passed  out  of  the  pool  and  rippled  on  towards 
the  sea,  were  the  only  sounds  audible  to  him.  And  here  hidden, 
torn  by  conflicting  emotions,  the  quaint-ness  of  his  nobility  was 
manifested.  He  spake  aloud,  holding  strange  converse  with  him 
self  and  One  other,  and  the  only  Auditor  he  had. 

"  Put  off  thy  shoes !"  he  began  his  monologue,  "  for  the  place 
where  thou  standest  is  holy.  Oh,  my  beloved !  How  sweet  has  been 
my  dream  !  And  now  I  know  full  well  that  I  must  dream  of  thee 
no  more.  Father !  It  was  a  heavy  load  thou  laidst  upon  my 
brain,  and  heart,  and  soul!  My  mother's  kinsman!  And  yet  if  the 
charge  had  not  been  solemnly  put  upon  me  I  could  not  have 
escaped.  MyKet!  My  beautiful,  my  pure  Ket!  Mine  no  more!" 

He  stood  erect,  his  beautiful  face  calm  and  gentle,  his  kind  eyes 
looking  around  this  wild  prayer  place.  A  great  round  boulder  as 
high  as  his  head  was  on  his  right  hand,  and  above  it  a  long  gray 


94  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

stone  was  lying  amid  the  debris  of  the  last  flood.  He  clambered 
upon  the  boulder  and  raising  the  monolith,  the  young  giant  stood 
it  upright  on  the  larger  mass.  There  was  a  fissure  in  the  top  of 
the  boulder,  and  the  end  of  the  stone  he  had  reared  up,  slipped 
into  the  crack  and  wedged  itself  tight  by  gravitation.  As  he  stood 
by  the  side  of  this  rude  pillar  he  held  up  his  hand  reverently  and 
said: 

"  If  thou  lift  thy  tool  upon  it  thou  hast  polluted  it.  To  this  spot 
will  I  return  whenever  I  am  in  sore  distress  and  while  this  witness 
stands.  1  will  remember  the  hills  from  whence  cometh  my  help. 
Hitherto  hath  the  Lord  helped  me.  Ebenezer  \r 

Half  a  dozen  hours  before  Sir  John  had  announced  to  him  that 
they  were  the  two  happiest  men  on  earth.  And  while  he  spoke 
his  own  heart  was  running  over  with  happiness,  while  Barston's 
was  waging  a  grim  combat  with  despair.  But  now  this  athlete 
had  conquered  despair,  and  looked  forward  with  cheerful  courage 
to  the  future,  and  the  pang  that  had  rent  his  heart  had  been  won 
derfully  healed,  and  at  this  very  moment  the  heart  of  his  kins 
man  was  torn  with  agonies  that  could  find  no  expression  in  w^ords. 

11  This  place  is  my  Proseuche.  No  temple  made  with  hands  can 
equal  it  in  grandeur.  No  closet  of  man's  contrivance  can  match  it 
in  privacy.  And  I  alone  know  the  way  to  it  from  the  hill-top  and 
from  the  beach.  Now,  Master  Barston,  keep  in  mind  the  lesson 
learned  here  to-day.  Watch  over  Jack.  The  devil  told  you  while 
you  were  galloping  over  the  downs  that  you  were  a  better  fellow, 
and  worthier  of  Ret.  Sister  Ret !  It  must  come  to  that,  my  boy.  If 
the  devil  had  not  lied,  and  if  you  were  every  way  worthier,  so 
much  the  more  are  you  bound  to  teach  Jack  how  to  equal  you. 
It  is  part  of  the  charge.  And  the  main  lesson  you  must  remember 
is  the  weakness  of  nature  and  the  strength  of  grace.  So  take  the 
motto-word  '  Ebenezer !'  I  must  go  up  there  once  more." 

He  climbed  the  boulder  again,  and  stood  by  the  side  of  his  pil 
lar.  There  was  an  odd  mixture  of  superstition  and  of  simple 
reverence  in  the  man.  "  It  would  take  a  power  equal  to  the  lift  of 
a  ton  weight  to  withdraw  this  stone  from  its  socket,"  he  said,  as 
he  bent  over  and  kissed  its  rugged  summit.  "  And  now  for  a  dip 
in  the  bright  sea.  l  Ebenezer !' " 

Going  down  the  rock  from  point  to  point  with  the  assurance  of  one 
familiar  with  the  pathway,  he  reached  the  narrowing  belt  of  yel 
low  sand.  As  he  looked  out  upon  the  water  he  saw  three  things. 
First,  the  cluster  of  rocks  a  mile  out  towards  the  sea,  known  as 


THE  SMUGGLERS'  CAVE.  95 

"  The  Smugglers'  Cave ;"  second,  half  way  between  him  and  these 
rocks  a  boat  drifting  in  shore,  her  sail  swaying  from  side  to  side 
as  she  ran  up  into  the  wind  now  and  again  ;  third,  a  swimmer 
coming  in  from  the  rocks,  evidently  after  the  drifting  boat,  but 
gaining  nothing,  though  he  was  putting  forth  all  his  strength. 

"  Heaven  be  praised !"  said  Barston,  as  he  ran  down  the  shallow 
bank,  "  there  is  time  enough  if  I  do  not  waste  my  powers.  '  Eb- 
enezer!'"  and  he  clove  his  way  through  the  advancing  tide,  run 
ning  like  a  mill  race,  with  the  vigour  of  a  trained  athlete. 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 

THE  SMUGGLERS'  CAVE. 

"OEFOEE  Sir  John  Lacy  reached  the  Priory  he  met  Lord  Mor- 
J— )  ton's  carriage.  The  two  young  ladies  were  within.  He  had 
been  so  filled  with  his  story,  and  so  engrossed  while  he  talked 
with  Barston,  that  he  forgot  the  appointment  of  the  previous 
evening.  It  had  been  arranged  that  he  should  take  them — Eet 
and  Clare — to  the  Smugglers'  Cave,  and  his  errand  to  the  village 
was  to  engage  Barston  for  the  fourth  seat. 

"  And  you  have  forgotten  everything,"  said  Miss  Tamworth 
reproachfully. 

" I  confess  my  fault,"  replied  Sir  John.  "Don't  scold,  please, 
but  listen.  Both  Swiss  and  I  had  matters  of  high  import  to 
discuss,  and  he  has  gone  on  horseback  ahead  of  us.  We  shall  find 
him  at  the  farm  house,  no  doubt." 

''What  farm  house?" 

"  At  the  Bipple  Farm.  It  is  Barston's  property,  and  is  near  the 
very  spot.  We  will  take  the  next  turning  and  save  five  miles  by 
avoiding  the  village.  I  can  leave  my  horse  at  Oakland,  which  is 
not  far  distant,  and  join  you  in  the  carriage.  Take  the  first  turn 
to  the  left,  William,  and  I  will  catch  you  at  the  lodge  as  you 
pass."  So  saying  he  galloped  ahead  and  was  soon  lost  to  view. 

"He  is  a  nice  youth,"  said  Clare.  "I  had  arranged  a  pretty 
speech  for  Mr.  Barston  and  shall  forget  every  word  of  it  now." 

11  Never  inind,  dear,"  replied  Miss  Harwood,  "you  can  compose 
another.  I  never  knew  you  at  a  loss.  If  we  meet  Mr.  Barston 
on  the  coast  we  can  bring  him  back  with  us." 

When  the  Baronet  joined  them  again  he  looked  so  contrite  and 


96  TEE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

humble  that  lie  was  forgiven  at  once.  "  It  was  all  owing  to  my 
confounded  selfishness !"  he  said.  "  I  was  so  intent  upon  my  per 
sonal  gain  that  I  hardly  listened  to  the  good  news  Swiss  told  me. 
His  grand  uncle  is  dead,  Miss  Harwood,  and  Barston  gets  a  big 
lot  of  money." 

"  Indeed !  That  is  good  news.  Father  will  be  glad  to  hear  of 
Mr.  Barston's  good  fortune." 

"  So  will  everybody  else  that  knows  him.  He  took  it  very 
coolly  himself.  I  don't  think  he  expected  it  either,  as  he  and  the 
old  gentleman  did  not  part  on  very  good  terms,  the  latter  being 
displeased  because  Swiss  would  not  accept  a  loan  from  him.  He 
was  a  peppery  old  fellow,  and  told  Swiss  '  he  was  very  independent 
on  a  very  small  foundation.' " 

*'-  What  did  Mr.  Barston  reply  ?"  asked  Clare. 

" He  said  'his  independence  was  the  bulk  of  his  capital,  and  a 
debt  incurred  without  certain  means  of  repayment  was  a  theft.' " 

"  Which  is  true,"  remarked  Miss  Harwood. 

''Bosh!"  said  the  baronet;  "  such  a  theory  carried  out  would 
destroy  the  credit  system." 

"  And  abolish  the  bankrupt  courts,"  retorted  Eet. 

"There  you  go!"  said  Sir  John;  "that  comes  of  having  a 
brother  in  Parliament.  I  suppose  Herbert  rehearses  his  speeches 
to  you  before  delivery,  and  you  will  know  as  much  as  a  blue  book. 
Hasn't  he  been  tinkering  at  the  bankrupt  courts  lately  f 

"  Indeed  I  don't  know.  lib  was  Father  who  told  me  about  the 
bankrupt  courts.  From  the  little  I  understood  I  thought  they 
were  a  necessary  evil,  though." 

"  Here  is  the  Eipple  Farm,"  said  Sir  John,  "  and  there  is  Tommy 
Dawson.  Hillo,  Tommy  !  has  Mr.  Barston  been  here  to-day  f 

11  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Tommy,  opening  his  gash ;  "  he  left  his 
'orse  and  went  down  to  the  water  'cross  the  meadow.  He  is  coomin' 
back  at  two  o'clock,  and  mammy  is  fixin'  a  curd  for  him." 

"  All  right.  Drive  on,  William ;  we  shall  find  him  at  the  Eip- 
ples.  That  is  the  little  fishing  village,  ladies,  whence  we  are  to 
sail  for  the  cave." 

But  Mr.  Barston  was  not  there.  Sir  John  soon  secured  a  trim 
little  boat,  and,  rather  vain  of  his  nautical  skill,  declined  all  offers 
of  assistance,  put  off  with  his  fair  freight  and  reached  the  Smug 
glers'  Eocks  in  safety.  They  landed,  and  leaving  the  sail  free,  Sir 
John  secured  the  boat  by  bringing  the  anchor  on  the  rough  pier  and 
sticking  the  fluke  in  a  crevice  in  the  rocks.  Then  passing  around 


THE  SMUGGLERS'  CAVE.  91 

to  the  sea  side  of  the  miniature  island  they  were  soon  engrossed 
in  their  explorations. 

In  less  than  an  hour  after  their  arrival  Sir  John  noticed  the 
rapid  encroachments  of  the  tide  and  warned  the  ladies  that  they 
would  soon  be  forced  to  embark  or  to  take  refuge  in  the  cave 
proper,  which  was  ten  or  fifteen  feet  above  high  water  mark.  It 
had  been  voted  inaccessible  upon  the  first  survey,  and  they  de- 
ciared  their  readiness  to  return.  Sir  John  led  the  way  to  the 
landing',  and  they  beheld  with  dismay  the  boat  adrift  and  far  out 
of  reach,  wind  and  tide  both  carrying  it  towards  the  shore.  The 
anchor  had  slipped  from  its  fastening,  and  was  probably  retarding 
the  boat's  progress  as  it  occasionally  touched  the  bottom.  The 
gravity  of  the  situation  was  instantly  apparent  to  the  baronet, 
and  he  maintained  a  cheerful  demeanour  with  great  difficulty. 

"  Ladies,"  he  said,  "  you  must  return  to  the  other  side  of  the 
rocks  and  I  must  swim  after  the  boat.  Do  not  delay,  for  seconds 
of  time  are  now  of  enormous  value-  If  the  tide  advances  before  I 
get  back  you  can  climb  the  rocks.  Be  brave  and  hopeful,  and  if  I 
do  not  return,  Miss  Harwood,  you  will  know  that  I  have  given 
my  life  a  forfeit  for  imperiling  yours !  Not  a  word,  but  do  quickly 
as  I  counsel  you !"  He  threw  off  his  coat  and  waistcoat  while  he 
talked,  placing  them  high  up  on  the  rocks  near  him,  and  the  terri 
fied  girls  hastened  to  obey  him  while  he  struggled  out  of  his  boots. 
A  minute  later  he  was  riding  with  the  tide  and  making  too  much 
progress  to  last ! 

Our  friend  Barston  with  measured  strokes  neared  the  boat,  and 
with  his  muscles  in  full  vigour  grasped  the  gunwale.  With  his 
hands  once  upon  the  boat's  side  the  trick  of  the  gymnast  stood 
him  in  stead,  and  in  a  moment  he  was  tying  panting  in  the  bottom 
of  the  rocking  boat.  Small  rest  served  him.  He  had  detected 
the  trailing  anchor  before  he  reached  the  boat,  and  his  first  task 
was  to  draw  that  in.  Then  catching  the  sheet  he  drew  the  sail 
close  aboard,  putting  the  tiller  down,  and  went  with  race-horse 
speed  across  the  course  of  Sir  John. 

"  Keep  up  a  minute,  Jack!"  he  shouted ;  "  I  must  tack  once." 

"  Never  mind  me,  Swiss !  Go  to  the  rocks  and  take  off  the 
women.  I  can  keep  up  here  an  hour." 

Swiss  made  no  reply,  but  putting  the  boat  about  passed  within 
ten  yards  of  the  baronet.  Another  short  tack  brought  the  boat 
beyond  him  to  windward,  and  then  letting  the  sheet  loose,  Bar- 
stoii  drifted  down  upon  him.  Getting  his  arms  around  his  slip- 

7 


98  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

pery  body,  he  got  his  shoulders,  then  his  waist,  above  water,  and 
finally  dragged  him  into  the  boat  by  main  strength. 

Sir  John  was  exhausted.  He  had  put  too  much  steam  on  at 
the  start.  While  he  was  getting  back  his  powers  his  companion 
talked  to  him. 

"  It  would  slightly  surprise  the  ladies,  Jack,  for  me  to  present 
myself  just  now.  My  apparel  is  on  the  main  land,  yours  is  on  the 
rocks.  When  you  are  equal  to  the  task  I  will  relinquish  your 
boat  to  you  again  and  take  to  the  water.  By-the-bye,  one  more 
tack  will  bring  us  to  the  rocks.  How  do  you  feel  ?" 

"  I  believe  I  can  breathe,  Swiss.  How  does  it  happen  that  you 
are  always  near  when  I  am  endangered  ?" 

"  It  is  my  charge,  Jack.  None  of  your  nonsense  now !  Can 
you  howl  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  howl  out  loudly.    The  girls  will  hear  you  now." 

u  Howl  yourself." 

"  I  won't.  I  don't  wish  them  to  know  I  am  here ;  I  should  die 
of  shame !  Howl,  you  villain,  and  relieve  their  minds !" 

"  Courage !"  shouted  Sir  John.     "  Scream  if  you  hear." 

A  very  musical  squeal,  in  duett,  came  floating  over  the  water. 

"  There,  Jack,  take  the  tiller.    Are  you  all  right  ?" 

"  Certainly.    Where  the  deuce  are  you  going  f 

"Ashore,"  replied  Swiss,  as  he  plunged  head  foremost  over 
board.  When  his  head  emerged  he  went  on :  "  Before  you  can 
get  into  your  duds  I  shall  be  near  the  land.  The  wind  and  tide 
both  favour  me.  Don't  mention  me  to  the  girls.  I  will  meet  you 
at  Eipple  Farm." 

When  Mr.  Barston  reached  the  shore  he  saw  the  little  vessel 
gliding  from  behind  the  Smugglers'  Eocks,  the  broad  sail  full  and 
the  baronet  astern  with  his  hand  on  the  tiller.  Her  head  was 
turned  towards  the  shore,  and  Barston  drew  his  body  up  the  face 
of  the  rock  and  was  speedily  hidden  behind  the  stunted  bushes 
that  grew  in  the  crevices ;  but  while  he  was  not  visible  he  was 
audible,  and  if  the  boat  had  been  half  a  mile  nearer  its  passengers 
would  have  heard  a  voice  of  wonderful  power  and  sweetness  car 
olling  out : 

"  A  wet  sheet  and  a  flowing  sea, 
And  a  wind  that  follows  fasti" 

"  I  have  two  things  to  do,"  said  Swiss,  as  he  reached  his  Pro- 
seuche — "first,  to  return  thanks  to  the  Helper!"  and  he  stood 


THE  SMUGGLERS'  CAVE.  99 

reverently  a  few  minutes  in  silent  devotion ;  "  next,  to  dress  and 
go  to  Ripple  Farm  ;  and  I  may  add,  thirdly,  to  eat  Mrs.  Dawson's 
curd  before  the  ladies  get  there,  lest  she  have  but  one !  One  curd 
between  two  healthy  young  women,  at  two  o'clock,  P.  M.,  would 
be  a  hollow  mockery !  Besides,  I  saw  a  lunch  basket  in  the  boat ! 
Perhaps  they  don't  like  curds  either ;  or  if  they  do,  they  don't 
know  anything  about  Mrs.  Dawson's !  Heigho !  It  is  a  clear  case. 
I  shall  have  to  do  without  the  curd  until  I  know  they  won't  have 
any.  It  would  be  dreadfully  underbred  to  eat  it !" 

The  air  of  lofty  indifference  with  which  Mr.  Swiss  regarded  Mrs. 
Dawson's  spread,  was  very  comical.  There  was  a  curd  of  about  ten 
inches  diameter  and  two  inches  thick.  There  was  a  little  pitcher 
of  yellow  cream.  There  was  a  dish  of  golden  Porto  Rico  sugar  that 
had  never  been  passed  through  refiners'  hands,  and  was  therefore 
saccharine.  Swiss  licked  his  lips  in  his  mind's  eye  while  he  re 
sisted  the  old  dame's  entreaties  to  partake  of  her  dainties.  He 
put  her  off  with  various  evasions  until  Lord  Morton's  equipage 
appeared  in  the  lane.  Mr.  Barston  assisted  the  ladies  to  alight, 
kept  a  grave  face  as  he  glanced  at  their  wet  shoes  and  skirts,  for 
the  sea  had  caught  them  before  the  boat  reached  their  perch  on 
the  rocks,  and  listened  very  politely  while  both  of  them  together 
recounted  their  adventures.  The  story  was  not  very  coherent, 
but  Swiss  understood  it  all. 

"  Mrs.  Dawson  will  allow  us  to*  dry  our  feet  at  her  kitchen  fire, 
I  am  sure,"  said  Miss  Tarn  worth. 

"  And  she  will  divide  between  you  goddesses  some  nectar  and 
ambrosia  she  has  been  saving  for  you,"  said  Barston,  leading  the 
way  into  the  kitchen.  "  Behold  the  feast,  and  fall  to ! 

"Not  one  taste!"  said  Miss  Harwood,  decidedly.  "Tommy 
announced  to  us  two  hours  ago  that  this  curd  was  not  prepared 
for  goddesses  at  all.  Allow  us  to  return  the  invitation ;  '  fall  to ' 
yourself." 

"Never!"  Curds  are  my  daily  food.  I  am  tired  to  death  of 
curds !  And  this  is  raw  Porto  Rico  sugar !  Terribly  indigestible 
stuff  no  doubt." 

"  Oh,  how  nice  it  looks !"  said  Ret. 

"  Nice !    Do  you  know  what  you  are  saying  ?" 

"  Certainly.    I  always  take  raw  sugar  with  curds." 

"  Do  you  indulge  in  curds,  Miss  Harwood  ?" 

"Whenever  they  are  abundant  and  not  bespoken,"  said  Ret. 
"Please  eat  it  up,  Mr.  Barston,  if  you  can.  I  don't  believe  any- 


100  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

body  could  eat  that  monstrous  curd  all  at  once.  We  had  sand 
wiches  in  the  carriage." 

"  Lawks,  my  lady !"  said  Mrs.  Dawson.  "  I  have  three  more 
curds " 

"Mrs*  Dawson,"  said  Swiss,  "it  is  unjustifiable  homicide  for 
you  to  keep  them  another  minute.  If  you  will  produce  them  I 
will  show  these  ladies  that  one  honest  man  can  manage  one  curd. 
Jack  will  eat  another,  and  we  will  see  what  they  can  do  with  the 
other  two." 

When  the  party  quitted  the  Eipple  Farm  Mrs.  Dawson  had  not 
the  vestige  of  curd  on  her  premises.  William  sat  on  the  box  and 
nibbled  sandwiches. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

AH!    CHE   LA   MOKT£. 

THE  windows  were  all  open  looking  out  upon  the  terrace  at  the 
Priory.  It  was  after  dinner,  and  the  candles  were  illuminating 
the  room  where  sat  Lady  Morton,  her  daughter,  Miss  Tarn  worth, 
Lord  Morton,  Sir  John  Lacy  and  the  Eector.  The  author  has  been 
oppressed,  since  he  introduced  tfie  ladies,  with  the  conviction  that 
he  must  describe  their  dresses  at  least  once,  and  the  present  occa 
sion  seems  opportune. 

Lady  Morton  wore  a  pearl  coloured  silk,  trimmed  with  two 
flounces,  pinked  out  and  headed  with  broad  cross  cut  folds  of 
pearl  coloured  China  crepe,  caught  and  crossed  at  intervals  with 
narrow  folds  of  pearl  satin.  Her  overskirt  was  of  China  crepe, 
trimmed  with  folds  of  satin  and  rich  fringe.  The  low  body  was 
trimmed  with  Grecian  folds  of  crepe  de  CMne  bordered  with  fringe. 
Her  fair  neck  was  surrounded  with  rich  lace,  held  in  with  very 
narrow  black  velvet. 

Her  daughter  wore  a  dress  of  apricot  poult  de  soie,  trimmed  upon 
the  lower  skirt  with  a  deep  flounce  of  white  point  applique  lace. 
Her  overskirt,  sleeves  and  sash  embroidered  in  a  delicate  flower 
design,  scarlet,  green,  black  and  white,  bordered  with  lace,  was 
remarkably  striking.  Her  square  open  bodice,  embroidered  to 
match,  displayed  a  square  of  tulle  laid  in  folds  upon  the  neck. 

Miss  Tarn  worth  was  dressed  in  a  black  gros  grain,  with  a  flounce 


AH!  CHE  LA  MORT&.  101 

eight  inches  deep,  the  plaits  of  which  were  laid  in  clusters  all  oiie 
way,  with  a  space  the  width  of  the  plaits  between.  This  space 
was  occupied  l>y  three  pointed  straps  of  black  velvet,  the  middle 
one  the  deepest.  Tunic  overdress  of  black  cashmere,  trimmed 
with  a  broad  band  of  black  velvet  and  looped  up  on  the  sides  but 
not  on  the  back.  She  wore  a  butterfly  bow  at  the  back,  Hunga 
rian  sleeves,  and  overcoat  sleeves  of  black  silk. 

This  accurate  description,  the  author  flatters  himself,  is  a  tri 
umph  of  taste  and  ingenuity.  That  the  costumes  were  perfectly 
stunning  cauuot  be  doubted,  and  the  author  has  no  uncomfortable 
dread  of  making  a  mess  of  this  business,  as  he  has  copied  verbatim 
the  three  descriptions  from  Demoresfs  Monthly.  What  the  ladies 
looked  like,  thus  attired,  the  fair  readers  will  judge  for  themselves. 
It  is  hoped  they  will  approve.  If  not,  they  will  please  remember 
that  Madame  Demorest  is  responsible,  and  not  the  writer,  who, 
unhappily,  does  not  understand  a  word  of  the  jargon. 

"Come  Ket,  come  Parson,"  said  Lord  Morton,  "we  must  try 
those  selections  from  Trovatore.  Are  you  irt  accord,  Parson  P 

"  Twang,  twang.     Yes,  sir,"  responded  his  son. 

"  Well,  commence,  my  dear.  Andante !  One,  two,  three,  four, 
now !"  and  tossing  his  violin  into  place  he  led  off.  Lady  Morton, 
mistress  of  the  instrument,  played  the  piano  accompaniment. 
The  rector  with  his  violoncello  added  to  the  firmness  of  the  foun 
dation,  while  his  father  played  the  plaintive  melody  with  exquisite 
grace  and  feeling.  The  listeners  were  charmed,  and  unanimously 
demanded  an  encore.  As  the  first  notes  of  the  prison  song,  "Ah ! 
che  la  morte,"  were  sounded,  a  voice  joined  in  from  the  terrace, 

"Ah!  I  have  sighed  to  rest  me 
Deep  in  the  quiet  grave," 

and  the  wail  was  so  life-like  and  genuine  that  all  the  listeners  were 
visibly  affected.  Mr.  Barston  stepped  into  the  room  through  the 
French  window  as  the  song  concluded. 

"  Why,  Swiss !"  said  the  rector,  "  I  never  heard  that  song  with 
such  power  before.  Do  you  really  want  to  die  P 

"  Not  immediately,"  replied  Barston.  "  But  to  confess  the  truth 
I  was  affected  when  I  began  to  sing,  and  perhaps  my  voice  trem 
bled  a  little." 

"What  was  it,  Swiss P 

"  Why,  I  discovered  that  you  were  playing  in  two  flats  instead 
of  four.  That  high  B  took  all  the  skin  off  my  throat.  I  did  not 
know  it  until  it  was  too  late  to  stop." 


102  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

This  was  a  very  lame  and  impotent  conclusion.  All  of  his  audi 
tors  laughed  excepting  the  rector. 

"  Why  did  you  not  come  to  dinner,  Mr.  Barston  P  said  Lady  Mor 
ton  ;  "  we  waited  for  you." 

"  The  ladies  promised  to  visit  Oakland  to-morrow,  Madame,"  re 
plied  Swiss,  "  and  I  had  to  ride  over  to  warn  my  retainers.  They 
will  expect  luncheon,  and  the  experience  I  had  of  their  prowess 
to-day  at  Eipple  Farm,  coupled  with  my  knowledge  of  the  state 
of  the  Oakland  larder,  made  it  doubly  necessary  to  prepare " 

"  Why,  Mr.  Barston !"  said  Miss  Tamworth,  "  we  had  nothing 
but  curds." 

"  And  bread  and  butter.  Mrs.  Dawson  looked  aghast  when  she 
removed  the  dishes.  There  were  four  curds — all  of  good  dimen 
sions." 

"  And  Swiss  had  the  big  one  and  ate  every  bit  of  it,"  said  Sir 
John.  "In  fact,  I  believe  he  had  engaged  all  four  of  them  for 
himself.  Mine  was  quite  small  and  I  just  nibbled  at  it.  Swiss 
looked  so  cross  that  it  took  away  my  appetite." 

"Come  out  on  the  terrace,  Swiss,"  said  the  rector ;  "I  would 
not  stay  here  and  listen  to  such  slanders." 

When  the  young  men  got  beyond  earshot  the  rector  put  his 
arm  through  his  friend's  and  gave  an  affectionate  squeeze. 

"  What  ails  you,  Swiss  P  he  said  simply. 

"  Don't  ask  me  any  questions,  Johnny.  I  am  slightly  unstrung, 
but  I  shall  be  better  anon." 

"Don't  tell  fibs,  Swiss.  You  are  not  slightly  unstrung  but 
thoroughly  miserable  about  something.  Out  with  it.  Maybe  I 
can  help  you." 

"  Alas !  no.  If  kind  sympathy  were  all  I  wanted  I  know  yours 
would  be  freely  given ;  but,  Johnny  I  will  just  say  one  word,  and 
that  is,  I  cannot  tell  you,  of  all  men,  what  distresses  me.  Let  that 
suffice,  dear  friend,  and  don't  torture  me  with  questions." 

The  rector  looked  amazed,  meditated  a  moment,  and  blushed. 
Swiss  saw  the  colour  mounting  up  to  his  temples,  in  the  moon 
light. 

"  Your  song  was  not  all  sham,  Swiss,  was  it  P 

"  No.  I  am  ashamed  to  own  it  to  you  even.  But  it  would  be  a 
great  lie  now.  The  manhood  that  longs  for  death  is  little  worth. 
In  a  few  days  I  shall  find  the  path  I  must  take.  I  am  confused 
now.  Did  you  read  Parchment's  letter  ?  I  sent  it  to  your  study." 

"  Yes.    It  cannot  be  that  which  troubles  vou." 


AH!  GEE  LA  MORT&.  103 

"  I  don't  know.  I  think  I  should  suffer  less  if  I  were  poorer. 
The  old  gentleman  has  left  a  large  estate.  I  must  go  to  Calcutta, 
I  think,  as  he  had  extensive  interests  in  India  which  require  look 
ing  after.  I  am  thankful  for  that  prospect.  Let  us  talk  about 
something  else.  It  is  not  at  all  jolly  for  a  fellow  to  be  moaning 
over  his  own  troubles.  Johnny,"  he  added  suddenly,  "  if  I  have 
to  go  away,  promise  me  that  you  will  watch  over  Jack." 

"  Certainly,  Swiss.  I  should  do  that  anyhow  without  a  promise. 
You  must  tell  me  what  special  dangers  to  avert." 

"  I  need  tell  you  nothing.  We  have  been  boys  together,  and 
we  know  each  other's  faults  and  foibles.  I  know  yours  so  well 
that  I  can  transfer  Jack  to  you  without  fear,  if  you  will  only  feel 
that  you  have  a  charge,  as  I  have  always  had.  Jack  is  a  good 
boy,  has  good  impulses,  but  he  is  easily  misled.  My  work  has 
ever  been  to  counteract  evil  influences,  to  watch  for  them,  and  to 
thwart  the  devil  on  every  side.  If  you  appeal  to  Jack's  honour 
you  will  always  get  him.  Let  him  see  the  right  and  he  will  avoid 
the  wrong." 

"  Swiss,  dear  friend,  tell  me,  have  you  gotten  rid  of  'all!  die  la 
morte  T  There  is  an  intonation  that  reminds  me  of  it  while  you 
talk." 

Barston  stopped  in  his  walk  and  raised  his  big  eyes  to  the  glo 
rious  sky .  The  full  moon  was  climbing  over  the  tree  tops  on  the 
eastern  edge  of  the  park.  The  rector  watched  his  calm  face 
anxiously,  until  Barston  turned  his  eyes  to  his  and  answered,  with 
inexpressible  sweetness, 

"  Dear  Johnny,  I  know  that  my  grief  is  entirely  and  thoroughly 
selfish.  I  hate  selfishness  enormously.  Don't  you  think  I  shall 
root  it  out  ?  I  know  I  shall.  But  in  the  process  there  are  some 
poor  little  plants  that  I  have  been  cultivating,  and  watching,  and 
watering,  and  loving,  that  must  be  rooted  out  also.  It  will  hurt 
me  a  little,  but  will  not  kill.  When  I  was  singing  that  lying  song 
I  did  think  of  possible  tigers  or  cobras  in  India,  but  that  is  gone. 
I  cannot  think  of  any  lines  more  utterly  mendacious  than — "  and 
here  he  burst  into  song— 

"  Ah  1  I  have  sighed  to  rest  me 
Deep  in  the  quiet  grave !" 

"  Let  us  go  in,  Parson.  Those  amiable  ladies  are  sharp  eyed 
and  sharp  eared.  If  you  have  blundered  on  the  truth,  with  your 
slow  masculine  reasoning,  how  much  more  infallibly  will  feminine 


104  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

clairvoyance  analyze  inflections  in  a  fellow's  voice.  The  next  hor 
ror  to  positive  misery  is  the  pity  it  invokes.  Let  us  go  in  and  be 
hilarious." 

"  That  is  deceit,  Swiss." 

"  On  the  contrary,  it  is  genuine  philosophy.  I  cultivate  jollity 
upon  principle.  I  must  go  to  London  on  Saturday.  When  we 
meet  again  the  clouds  will  be  gone,  and  we  begin  to  dissipate 
them  to-night.  Come  in." 

"  Poor  Swiss  !"  said  the  rector,  "  you  must  grant  me  the  luxury 
of  sympathy.  If  you  would  allow  me  I  might  gild  the  edges  of 
your  clouds  a  little." 

"  Bad  policy,  Johnny !  Don't  waste  gilding  on  such  bad  mate 
rial.  I  happen  to  know  that  the  sunlight  is  behind  them,  and 
sooner  or  later  they  will  vanish.  It  is  the  Sun  of  Eighteousness, 
Parson,  with  healing  in  His  beams." 

"  Swiss,"  said  the  rector,  "  I  was  called  out  this  morning  to  see 
one  of  my  flock.  It  is  old  Willis.  I  think  his  days  are  num 
bered.  If  you  would  see  him  you  might  comfort  him  in  many 
ways,  chiefly  by  giving  him  cheerful  views  of  the  country  beyond 
the  dark  valley.  There  are  things  he  would  say  to  you  which  he 
will  not  say  to  me.  What  do  you  say  ?  My  profound  conviction 
is  that  a  sure  place  to  look  for  the  rays  you  speak  of  is  in  just 
such  ministrations." 

"  Thanks,  Parson,"  answered  Barston,  "  I  will  visit  him  to 
morrow.  But  my  creed  is  not  Episcopal,  you  know." 

"  Pooh !  what  do  I  care  for  your  creed  ?  All  creeds  are  alike 
when  one  faces  death.  I  mean  the  minor  fripperies  that  separate 
evangelical  sects.  I  am  entirely  willing  to  risk  Willis  in  your 
hands,  and  I  engage  to  endorse  every  word  you  say  to  him." 

"  Come  in !  I  am  going  to  have  '  Trovatore'  over  again.  Your 
father  can  easily  transpose  to  A  flat,  and  we  will  make  Miss  Clare 
sing  Leonora's  part.  Allans  /" 


CHAPTEE    XYI. 

WILLIS. 

46  "A  /TY  name  is  Lacy  Barston,"  said  that  gentleman  as  the 
-i-V_L     door  of  Mr.  Willis's  house  was  opened,  in  response  to 
his  knock.     "  May  I  come  in  ?    Mr.  Harwood,  the  rector,  told  me 
Mr.  Willis  was  sick.    Are  you  his  daughter  f ' 


WILLIS.  105 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  handsome  girl  he  addressed ;  "  walk 
in,  sir.  Father  is  sitting  up  to-day.  He  feels  better." 

Swiss  followed  her  into  the  little  sitting  room  at  the  end  of  the 
passage,  and  found  the  invalid,  propped  up  in  an  arm  chair  at 
the  open  window.  His  daughter  placed  a  chair  for  the  visitor, 
and  taking  up  some  needlework,  which  she  had  apparently  laid 
down  to  admit  him,  resumed  her  seat  at  a  little  distance,  furtivety 
examining  the  new  comer  as  she  bent  over  her  sewing.  She  had 
clear,  cold  eyes,  watchful  and  keen,  and  a  decided  air  of  self-pos 
session  and  composure  that  attracted  Barston's  attention. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you  down  stairs,  sir,"  said  he,  as  the  girl  an 
nounced  him — "  Mr.  Lacy  Barston,  Father." 

"  Thanks,"  answered  Willis,  feebly.  "  I  think  I  feel  better 
down  here.  The  doctor  bids  me  throw  physic  to  the  dogs,  which 
I  am  quite  ready  to  do." 

"  The  rector  invited  me  to  call  upon  you,"  said  Swiss,  turning 
the  full  blaze  of  his  gentle  eyes  upon  him;  "  and  it  will  give  me 
great  pleasure  to  serve  you  in  any  way." 

"A  little  less  than  kin  but  more  than  kind,"  muttered  the  sick 
man.  "  That  is  a  poor  travesty,  too.  I  am  sensible  of  your  kind 
ness,  sir,  yet  hardly  know  how  to  avail  of  it." 

"  Mr.  Harwood  knew  I  was  going  to  London  in  a  day  or  two. 
Perhaps  he  thought  I  could  render  you  some  service  there." 

"  No,  unless  you  might .  But  I  hesitate  to  trouble  a  gentle 
man  like  you  with  petty  commissions." 

"  I  beg  you  will  dismiss  your  scruples  and  entrust  me  with  any 
business  that  I  can  do.  It  will  be  a  kindness  to  me,  as  I  desire 
occupation  above  all  things." 

"  Well,  sir,  there  is  a  manager  in  London — his  name  is  Tomp- 
kius — who  may  be  found  at  No.  10  Burnet  street,  Strand.  He 
owes  me  certain  moneys.  I  do  not  know  how  much,  but,  much 
or  little,  'twill  be  acceptable.  It  is  my  proportion  of  the  gains  of 
his  last  tour  through  the  provinces." 

"  How  can  I  tell  if  he  makes  the  proper  settlement  f '  said  Bar- 
stou,  entering  the  name  and  address  in  his  note  book. 

"  He  is  honest.  You  will  only  have  to  tell  him  that  Joe  Willis 
is  ill  and  in  need.  He  will  pay  you  if  he  has  the  money.  We 
have  been  together  for  three  years — players,  sir,  but 

"  '  All  the  world's  a  stags 
And  all  the  men  and  women  merely  players.'" 

"  And  at  which  scene  are  you  now  performing  ?"  said  Barston, 
looking  pitifully  at  the  wan  face  of  his  interlocutor. 


106  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  The  lean  and  slippered  pantaloon  at  least,  and  perhaps  a 
little  lower.  But  the  last  scene-shifting  does  not  appal  me  so 
much.  I  am  in  doubt  about  Kitty  there,  and  cannot  decide  as  to 
her  future.  There  is  something  in  your  face  and  manner,  sir,  that 
emboldens  me  to  ask  you  to  watch  over  her " 

"  I  need  no  one  to  watch  over  me,  Father,"  said  Kitty,  gently 
but  decidedly. 

"  Foolish  girl !  the  world  is  full  of  snares  and  pitfalls.  This 
gentleman  is  the  son  of  the  Lady  Mary,  of  whom  I  have  told  you. 
I  am  a  native  of  the  village,  Mr.  Barston,  though  I  have  rarely 
seen  it  for  more  than  a  dozen  years.  Kitty  was  born  here,  but 
has  been  the  companion  of  her  father  through  all  his  wanderings. 
When  I  become  a  l  grave  man '  I  pray  you  to  think  occasionally 
of  my  daughter,  and  shield  her  from  harm  if  you  can." 

"  I  will.  When  I  return  may  I  see  you  again  ?  Thank  you. 
I  have  been  a  medical  student  and  have  some  little  knowledge  of 
diseases.  I  think  you  will  be  feeble  while  you  live,  but  that  you 
will  live  longer  if  your  mind  is  tranquil.  Have  you  any  other 
considerations  that  cause  you  anxiety  besides  those  that  belong 
to  earth?" 

"  I  can  hardly  answer  you.  Perhaps  I  rely  somewhat  upon  the 
record  of  a  blameless  life,  and  so  find  tranquility." 

"  It  is  a  safe  dependence,  my  friend.  I  have  no  other  hope 
than  that,  except  it  be  the  record  of  a  death  also!  It  is  the 
blameless  life  and  the  blameful  death,  united,  that  make  the  un 
answerable  plea." 

"  The  rector  said  as  much,"  answered  Willis.  "  He  left  a  book 
for  me  to  read  that  interests  me  greatly.  It  is  here,"  and  he  pro 
duced  it. 

"  '  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,' "  said  Barston.  "  My  dear  sir,  I 
leave  you  in  good  company.  My  deliberate  judgment  is  that  no 
uninspired  book  can  compare  with  l  Bunyan.'  When  I  return  we 
will  discuss  it." 

"  I  cannot  take  kindly  to  this  theory  of  imputation,  on  either 
side  of  it,"  said  Willis  thoughtfully.  "  Adam  was  too  far  remote 
from  me  to  damage  me,  even  if  the  transmission  of  guilt  were 
right." 

"  Did  your  father  have  any  pulmonary  trouble  ?"  said  Barston. 

u  Yes.    He  died  of  pulmonary  disease." 

"  And  therefore  you  sit  there  feeble  and  fainting.  All  the 
doctors  of  all  schools  will  tell  you  that  physical  ailments  descend 


WILLIS.  107 

from  sire  to  son.     There  are  many  analogies  in  nature's  laws. 
"Why  should  not  moral  ailments  be  transmitted  also  F 

"  I  have  not  thought  of  that !  It  may  be  so.  But  if  true,  it 
adds  to  the  difficulty  of  the  converse  proposition — the  righteous 
ness  !" 

"  Ah !  brother  mortal,  that  is  inherited  also ;  read  rare  old 
1  Buuyan.'  No  other  man  has  so  clearly  stated  the  case.  You 
will  be  pleased  with  the  quaintness  of  his  utterances.  Eead  the 
allegory,  and  if  you  find  him  incomprehensible  apply  to  the  rector 
for  explication.  I  almost  know  '  Bunyaii '  by  heart,  and  as  I  grow 
older,  and  meet  with  works  of  greater  pretension,  I  admire  him 
the  more." 

"It  is  pleasant  to  hear  you,  sir," replied  the  sick  man 5  "  when 
may  I  see  you  again  ?" 

"  To-morrow,"  said  Barstou,  rising  and  pressing  his  hand.  "  Good 
bye.  Miss  Kitty,  you  may  read  to  your  father  if  he  tires.  He  is 
happy  in  having  a  woman  to  minister  to  him,  especially  as  that 
woman  is  his  daughter."  He  shook  hands  with  her  at  parting,  and 
walked  rapidly  in  the  direction  of  the  rectory,  where  Roland 
awaited  his  coming.  Half  an  hour  later  he  was  cantering  through 
the  lodge  gates  of  the  Priory,  whence  an  equestrian  party  was 
about  to  start  for  Oakland. 

"  I  am  puzzled  with  this  new  charge,"  said  Swiss  to  himself,  or 
to  Eoland.  "  Here  is  an  old  fellow  in  the  last  stage  of  Phthisis 
Pidmonalis,  if  my  medical  lore  is  not  at  fault.  The  girl  evidently 
knows  it,  and  she  is  entirely  resigned,  apparently.  She  is  as  self- 
reliant  as Eet  Harwood.  But  there  is  a  wide  difference  be 
tween  them.  Eet  walks  the  earth  like  a  born  princess,  endowed 
with  a  majesty  that  is  unselfish  and  beneficent.  The  other  seems 
to  rely  upon  constant  watchfulness.  Eet's  face  reflects  a  thousand 
emotions.  The  other  manifests  no  emotion  whatever.  I  foresee 
that  Kitty  will  furnish  me  occupation  when  her  father  dies.  Cold, 
distrustful  and  wilful.  It  would  have  been  far  more  pleasant  to 
watch  over  Eet.  But  there  comes  in  the  innate  selfishness.  In 
nate  !  Selfishness  was  a  prime  ingredient  of  the  forbidden  fruit. 

"  Two  or  three  things  to  be  done.  Master  Barston.  First :  con 
vince  yourself  that  Jack  is  a  worthier  fellow  than  yourself,  and 
then  instruct  Eet  and  her  father.  It  is  not  difficult  if  you  will  only 
be  honest.  Second :  get  Parchment  to  use  some  of  this  new  money 
in  paying  the  mortgage  on  the  Lacy  lands,  and  see  that  you  do  it 
so  secretly  that  Jack  will  not  even  suspect  you.  There  is  a  test 


108  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

for  your  wit,  my  boy.  I  suspect  Parchment  won't  do.  Some  other 
legal  limb  must  be  found.  Parchment  would  interpose  some  stu 
pid  objections,  and  Lord  Morton  would  pump  him  dry.  Third:  old 
Willis  and  his  money.  It  is  not  probable  that  Mr.  Tompkins  will 
have  a  large  balance.  You  must  make  him  owe  Willis,  say  fifty 
pounds,  and  let  him  remit  it  himself.  If  you  take  it  Willis  will 
question  you,  and  lying  is  out  of  your  line  of  business. 

u  If  you  attend  properly  to  these  little  matters,  you  may  perhaps 
spend  Christmas  in  Calcutta.  If  all  goes  well,  Jack  will  be  out  of 
your  charge  by  that  time,  and  Willis  will  also  be  beyond  the 
reach  of  your  ministrations.  Then  you  may  spend  a  year  of  mod 
erate  mourning,  and  educate  your  heart  to  cultivate  new  affec 
tions.  Don't  be  ass  enough  to  conclude  that  all  nature  is  antago 
nistic  because  you  have  to  root  out  your  foolish  love.  O,  my  prin 
cess!  if  I  might  have  won  thee!  But  that  is  positively  your  last 
groan,  my  boy.  Accustom  yourself  to  think  kindly  and  as  be 
comes  a  brother  of  Jack's  wife.  There's  another  stinger  for  you  to 
throttle.  It  is  worse  than  old  Blixem's  pet  problem,  which  you 
solved  by  forty-eight  hours  of  patient  application.  This  is  a  mat 
ter  for  forty-eight  years,  if  you  live  so  long.  So  go  at  it. 

"  Eoland !    I  sometimes  fancy  I  should  like  to  be  with  you  in 
the  Crimea  again.    But  it  was  very  poor  amusement  to  be  chop 
ping  up  those  Russian  fellows.    Yet  how  you  used  to  enjoy  it, 
Eoland.    I  have  known  you  to  leap  clear  of  the  ground,  you  old 
rascal,  with  sabres  flashing  around  you,  and  the  din  of  the  bottom 
less  pit  driving  men  mad.    Do  you  remember  getting  that  scar  on 
your  neck  ?    That  was  a  Cossack  lance.    The  poor  fellow  that  car 
ried  it  carried  his  right  arm  home  in  a  sling,  sir. 
'Away  with  melancholy, 
Nor  gloomy  changes  ring.' 

"  The  chap  that  made  the  music  for  those  jolly  words  must  have 
had  a  queer  idea  of  congruity.  The  Dead  March  in  Saul  is  no 
worse.  There  is  the  house,  and  there  are  the  ladies.  Jack  is  assist 
ing  Miss  Harwood  to  mount.  Parson  Johnny  is  escorting  Miss 
Tamworth.  Eoland,  you  shall  have  the  honour  of  trotting  beside 
Lady  Morton's  bonny  bay.  Most  excellent  lady !  I  love  and  re 
vere  you !  You  keep  ever  before  me  the  memory  of  my  mother. 
A  large  part  of  my  last  dream  has  been  the  hope  of  transferring 
that  title  to  you.  Bah  !  Good  morning,  ladies.  You  honour  me 
by  trusting  my  punctuality.  It  is  precisely  one  o'clock.  My  lady, 
may  I  escort  you  to  Oakland  P 


ONE   YEAR  LATER.     MR.  BUTLER.  109 

CHAPTEE    XVII. 
ONE  YEAR  LATER.    MR.  BUTLER. 

THE  will  of  Miles  Barston,  Esq.,  contained  several  stipulations. 
One  provided  that  five  thousand  pounds  should  be  expended 
in  repairs  at  Oakland,  and  even  indicated  the  sort  of  improvements 
he  desired.  Another,  after  enumerating  certain  Indian  possess 
ions,  directed  the  legatee,  Lacy  Barston,  to  proceed  to  Calcutta 
(where  the  testator  died),  and  to  dispose  of  this  property  under 
very  accurate  instructions.  The  amount  of  money  invested  in 
Indian  securities  was  considerable,  and  the  wisdom  of  the  old  man 
was  manifested  in  the  directions  he  left  for  their  disposal.  When 
Barston  embarked  upon  the  return  journey,  he  was  possessor  of 
rather  more  than  one  hundred  thousand  pounds  that  the  East 
Indian  part  of  his  inheritance  had  yielded. 

The  ship  Orion  had  very  few  passengers  from  Calcutta,  but  she 
called  at  Port  Philip  and  took  up  a  few  more.  She  also  took  a  new 
mate,  replacing  an  officer  who  had  died  in  Calcutta.  The  new 
man,  whose  name  was  Butler,  was  young,  but  proved  himself  a 
thorough  seaman,  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  captain,  who  was  com 
pelled  to  dispense  with  his  ordinary  caution  and  to  accept  the  only 
sailor  he  could  find  in  the  port  with  sufficient  knowledge  to  navigate 
the  ship.  Butler  was  very  taciturn  and  reticent — would  give  no 
other  account  of  himself  than  that  he  had  deserted  from  an  Ameri 
can  vessel  a  year  earlier  to  engage  in  the  hunt  for  gold.  He  had 
found  some,  too,  and  when  the  bargain  was  concluded  he  entrusted 
a  weighty  bag  of  gold  dust  to  his  captain,  to  be  returned  to  him 
upon  the  arrival  of  the  Orion  at  Liverpool.  The  ship  from  which 
he  deserted  was  the  Bellona,  and  he  only  did  what  every  other 
sailor  on  board  had  done,  namely,  relinquish  his  wages  already 
earned  and  join  the  crowds  then  flocking  to  the  newly  discovered 
diggings.  He  was  not  an  officer — only  an  able  seaman.  The  story 
was  corroborated  by  the  authorities  of  the  port  in  the  main,  and 
the  oifence  was  very  materially  modified  by  its  universality  at  that 
particular  time.  Butler  was  sober,  expert  and  vigilant,  and  rather 
a  favourite  with  Captain  Hardy  after  they  had  been  a  few  weeks  at 
sea. 

Mr.  Barston  was  attracted  also  by  something  in  the  mate's  man 
ner  or  appearance,  but  the  attraction  was  not  mutual.  The  sea- 


110  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

man,  who  was  tolerably  affable  with  the  other  passengers,  was 
silent  and  gloomy  whenever  Barston  was  near.  Sometimes  he 
affected  not  to  hear  when  the  latter  addressed  him,  and  he  always 
spoke  in  monosyllables  when  obliged  to  answer.  It  was  a  remark 
able  example  of  instinctive  repugnance  with  no  visible  cause. 
Swiss  was  puzzled.  He  had  never  encountered  such  unmistakable 
dislike  before.  Once  there  was  a  sudden  squall,  common  enough 
in  those  seas,  and  in  the  confusion  attendant  upon  an  unexpected 
order  to  shorten  sail,  the  mate  clambered  up  the  mizzen  shrouds  in 
his  zeal  to  aid  the  sailors,  and  was  dashed  down  by  a  blow  of  the 
flapping  sail.  Barston,  who  was  holding  himself  erect  by  the 
leeward  rigging,  foresaw  the  catastrophe,  and  starting  forward 
caught  the  mate  as  he  fell  and  drew  him  under  the  bulwark,  pretty 
much  as  an  elephant  would  pull  down  a  bullock.  Butler  started 
from  his  encircling  arm  with  a  muttered  curse,  darted  up  the  lad 
der  again,  and  fairly  secured  the  sail  by  skill,  strength  and  pluck 
combined.  But  for  Barston's  interposition  he  would  have  been 
swept  over  the  bulwarks  and  lost  beyond  a  doubt.  Instead  of 
softening  in  his  manner,  however,  the  mate  was  more  repellent 
than  before. 

Swiss  had  a  habit  of  "  not  giving  up  things,"  as  he  himself  ex 
pressed  it,  and  he  pursued  the  sailor  with  his  friendship  through 
out  the  long  voyage.  To  an  onlooker  the  contest  was  very  amus 
ing.  Barston,  quietly  persisting  in  polite  inquiries  as  to  the  mate's 
health,  the  ship's  progress,  the  portents  of  the  heavens  and  the 
like.  Butler,  with  sleepless  vigilance  watching  the  possible  drift 
of  each  question,  and  answering  with  the  fewest  words  possible, 
and  finally  wriggling  out  of  the  conversation  by  some  pretext  con 
nected  with  his  official  duties. 

"  I  thought  you  were  a  Yankee,  Mr.  Butler,"  said  Swiss  one  day, 
catching  the  mate  when  engaged  in  securing  a  boat  at  the  davits. 
He  could  not  quit  the  job  until  completed,  and  Barston  pursued 
his  advantage. 

"  Bid  you  f  replied  Butler. 

"  Yes.  But  I  discovered  my  error  when  I  heard  you  speak. 
There  are  certain  intonations  that  are  not  indigenous  out  of  Eng 
land.  You  are  not  only  English  but  Devonshire." 

Butler  glanced  at  him  half  in  terror  and  half  in  anger,  but  made 
no  reply. 

"  I  have  given  some  attention  to  this  matter  of  dialects,"  contin 
ued  Swiss,  meditatively.  "If  I  had  time  I  half  fancy  that  I  could 


ONE   TEAR  LATER.    MR.  BUTLER.  Ill 

fix  a  man's  birthplace  very  accurately  by  his  speech  alone.  Now 
Captaiu  Hardy  is  undoubtedly  Yorkshire.  Mr.  Moody,  the  first 
mate,  is  as  certainly  Lancashire.  Beautiful  Devon  has  a  lingo  of 
its  own." 

"  I  see  no  difference,"  muttered  the  sailor. 

"  Ah !  that  is  because  you  have  not  given  the  matter  your  at 
tention.  Devon  is  the  garden  of  the  earth.  Perhaps  climatic  in 
fluences  may  affect  the  voice,  as  they  certainly  affect  the  physical 
organism,  and  it  may  be  true  that  the  delicious  air  of  Devon 
softens  the  intonations.  I  don't  know  any  of  your  name  there, 
but  I  would  wager  that  you  were  born  not  far  from  Lavington." 

"Here,  Tom,"  said  the  mate  desperately,  "splice  this  infernal 
ratlin.  I  must  go  to  the  maintop."  A  sailor  relieved  Mr.  Butler, 
who  was  at  the  masthead  a  minute  later. 

"  This  chap  puzzles  me  enormously,"  said  Mr.  Swiss,  lighting  a 
cigar  and  walking  aft ;  "  there  is  something  about  him  that  seems 
to  recall  old  memories,  and  now  I  am  convinced  that  I  have  some 
where  and  sometime  encountered  him  or  some  of  his  breed.  I 
wonder  if  I  ever  harmed  him  or  his  ?  I  have  a  great  mind  to  ask 
him.  But  I  must  not  be  hasty.  My  little  encounters  with  Mr. 
Butler  relieve  the  monotony  of  this  tiresome  voyage  amazingly. 
I  shall  tackle  him  systematically  every  day,  until  I  find  out  why 
he  recoils  from  me  so  decidedly." 

Mr.  Barston's  benevolent  intentions  were  frustrated  very  unex 
pectedly  the  next  day.  He  found  the  mate  standing  near  the 
wheelhouse,  and,  putting  on  his  customary  innocent  expression,  he 
asked  him  if  he  knew  the  coast  near  Exeter. 

"  Mr.  Barston,"  replied  the  sailor  coldly,  "  all  reference  to  my 
birthplace  pains  me.  I  have  avoided  you  because  I  knew  you 
were  from  Devon.  You  said  you  took  me  for  a  Yankee.  But  no 
Yankee  that  I  have  ever  met  can  match  you  in  curiosity !" 

"  I  sincerely  beg  your  pardon,"  answered  Swiss  penitently  j 
"what  you  say  is  true.  I  have  annoyed  you,  I  know,  though  I 
meant  no  unkindness.  Pra£  forgive  me,  and  I  will  trouble  you 
no  more.  There  is  the  hand  of  an  English  gentleman !  Take  it, 
man,  and  let  us  be  friends !" 

"  And  strangers,"  answered  the  other,  grasping  his  hand. 

"As  you  will,"  replied  Barston.  "I  am  ashamed  of  myself  for 
troubling  you,  and  apologize  honestly  for  the  past,  which  was, 
after  all,  only  a  clumsy  proffer  of  friendship.  Say  that  you  will 
forget  it." 


112  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Ay,  ay !"  said  Butler,  composedly.  I  harbour  no  malice.  You 
caught  me  the  other  day  when  I  was  going  to  Davy  Joues !  I 
think  you  made  a  mistake !" 

"Now,"  said  Swiss,  as  the  mate  left  him,  "here  is  another 
problem  for  me  to  work  out,  and  it's  a  stinger!  The  rascal  has 
tied  me  up  hand  and  foot,  and  I  cannot  investigate  him  without 
denying  my  very  nature.  There  was  something  thoroughbred  in 
the  way  he  called  me  a  Yankee!  I  have  a  presentiment  that  Mr. 
Butler  will  be  a  whetstone  for  my  wits  for  some  time  to  come. 
What  am  I  to  do  ?  I  will  die  before  I  give  up  the  task  of  finding 
the  key  to  this  mystery  5  and  I  will  die  before  I  tackle  him  again, 
either  secretly  or  openly  !  I  must  wait  the  developments  of  Pro 
vidence,  and  watch !" 

When  Mr.  Barston  stepped  ashore  at  Liverpool  the  problem 
was  still  unsolved.  It  is  quite  probable  that  he  rather  enjoyed 
his  perplexity,  and  promised  himself  pleasant  occupation  in  the 
future  while  he  accumulated  facts  and  recalled  memories.  "  If 
I  can  only  get  enough  conditions  the  equation  will  be  easy,"  he 
thought.  The  next  day  he  was  in  London  and  in  consultation 
with  Mr.  Parchment  about  the  investment  of  his  Calcutta  money, 
and  the  next  found  him  gliding  over  the  rails  towards  Lavington. 

The  train  arrived  in  the  night  and  Swiss  went  to  the  inn.  He 
had  not  announced  his  arrival  in  England,  and  no  one  expected 
him.  A  sleepy  waiter  showed  him  his  chamber  and  asked  for 
orders  for  the  morrow's  breakfast. 

"  Is  Mr.  Harwood  at  the  rectory  F  asked  Swiss. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  I  shall  breakfast  with  him." 

"  Shall  I  call  you,  sir"?" 

"  No ;  I  always  waken  at  the  right  time.     Good  night !" 

Poor  Swiss  was  the  victim  of  memories.  It  was  just  a  year 
since  he  sailed  for  India.  During  the  voyage,  and  during  his 
residence  in  Calcutta,  his  mind  was  occupied  with  new  interests. 
But  now  he  fell  back  upon  the  life  he  had  left  in  Devonshire. 
There  had  been  some  changes  whose  reports  reached  him  in  the 
east.  Eet  Harwood  was  Lady  Lacy,  that  was  the  first — Jack's 
wife.  This  is  the  short  sentence  he  had  been  repeating  three  hun 
dred  days  and  nights,  like  a  school  boy.  Each  time  he  said  it 
with  new  emphasis,  and  it  always  hurt.  It  was  a  hard  lesson,  but 
he  had  it  now  pat — Jack's  wife.  He  wondered  if  Jack  appreciated 
the  fact,  and  he  said  "of  course!"  and  then  he  knew  he  was 


BAD  NEWS.  113 

lying.  He  tried  to  think  of  Lord  and  Lady  Morton,  of  Allen  and 
Parson  Johnny,  but  he  came  back  to  the  old  lesson,  "  Jack's 
wife,"  and  then  he  suddenly  remembered  the  Proseuche ! 

"Ah!"  said  he,  turning  wearily  on  his  side,  "to-morrow,  if 
Eoland  is  alive  and  well,  I  shall  visit  Eipple  Farm.  It  is  curd 
time,  too !" 

Willis  died  soon  after  he  left  last  year.  There  was  Kitty  to 
look  after.  He  would  go  there  to-morrow  on  his  way  to  break 
fast.  Kitty  first — that  was  duty.  Breakfast  next — that  was  neces 
sity.  Finally,  Proseuche — that  was  strength.  And  so  he  fell 
asleep. 

He  was  wakened  by  the  roar  of  a  train  coming  into  the  station, 
and  found  the  sun  looking  into  his  window.  While  he  dressed  he 
heard  the  'bus  drive  up  to  the  inn  door,  and  the  clatter  of  luggage, 
and  the  voices  of  porters  and  passengers.  He  thought  he  recog 
nized  a  voice,  but  was  not  certain,  and  could  not  see  from  his  win 
dow  any  of  the  talkers.  When  he  went  down  the  new  comers 
were  lounging  lazily  in  the  coffee  room,  but  were  all  strangers. 
He  paid  for  his  lodging,  and  leaving  directions  to  send  his  lug 
gage  to  the  rectory,  he  marched  out  on  the  path  of  duty.  A  short 
walk  brought  him  to  the  trim  little  cottage  where  Willis  had 
lived.  He  knocked  once  and  again,  the  door  being  ajar,  and  at 
last,  no  one  appearing,  he  pushed  it  open  and  entered  the  sitting 
room.  Kitty  was  there,  looking  very  pretty  in  her  black  dress, 
and  her  beauty  probably  somewhat  heightened  by  her  blushing 
face  and  beaming  eyes,  as  she  extricated  herself  from  the  encirc 
ling  arms  of  Mr.  Butler ! 


CHAPTEE    XVIII. 

BAD  NEWS. 

ARSON"  JOHIOT,"  said  Swiss  as  he  sipped  his  coffee, 
"  this  Mocha  is  good.  I  have  brought  you  a  bale,  how 
ever,  that  has  been  highly  praised.  I  invested  a  lot  of  tin  for  it 
in  requital  of  your  teachableness.  Do  you  remember  how  long  it 
took  me  to  make  you  give  up  those  poisonous  Chinese  weeds  and 
take  to  the  fragrant  berry  P 

"  I  have  not  given  up  tea,  Swiss.    I  always  drink  it  at  the  Eed 
Hall.    By  the  bye,  you  have  not  asked  for  Eet.    She  has  a  little 

8 


114  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

daughter.  There  goes  another  cup!  Sally  broke  one  yesterday. 
How  did  you  drop  it  P 

"  The  coffee  was  hot,  Johnny,  and  that  is  mendacious !  I  was 
so  startled  by  your  news  that  I  dropped  the  cup.  Ret's  baby ! 
By  the  three  kings  of  Cologne !  I  adopt  the  child  this  minute !" 
This  was  the  extent  of  Mr.  Barston's  profanity.  "  How  old  is  the 
child,  and  is  she  like  her  mother  P 

"  One  question  at  a  time,  Swiss.  How  old  I  Let  me  see,  this 
is  the  eighteenth.  The  prodigy  is  three  weeks  old.  Resemblance? 
Well,  I  have  not  studied  her  features  very  carefully,  but  I  think 
they  look  like  a  small  lump  of  pink  putty." 

"What  an  old  heathen  you  are!  But  no  matter.  Give  me 
another  cup  of  coffee.  Here,  make  it  in  the  egg  cup,  as  you  are  so 
stingy  about  your  china.  Why  don't  you  get  married,  Parson, 
and  live  decently  *?  It  is  not  canonical  for  a  man  to  be  moping 
over  broken  cups  and  saucers !" 

"Why  don't  you  get  married  yourself,  Swiss  P  retorted  the 
rector.  He  looked  anxiously  at  his  friend's  face  as  he  spoke. 

"Now  that  is  a  very  sensible  question,"  replied  Barston, 
thoughtfully.  "  I  will  give  the  matter  very  serious  consideration. 
I  brought  a  hundred  thousand  with  me  from  India.  I  must  either 
marry  or  give  some  of  it  away.  It  is  too  much  for  a  bachelor. 
By  the  bye,  perhaps  I  can  set  up  a  couple  I  encountered  this 
morning.  Kitty  Willis  and " 

"Kitty  Willis!''  said  the  rector,  "that  must  be  a  mistake, 
Swiss.  She  has  no  masculine  friends." 

"  Ah,  but  she  has.  The  gentleman  came  from  Australia  with 
me.  His  name  is  Butler.  I  saw  him  hugging  Kitty  in  her  own 
house.  Do  you  happen  to  know  any  Butlers  in  this  vicinity  P 

"  Yes,  two  or  three.  Father  always  brings  old  Saunders  down 
here  with  him.  Mr.  DeVere  has  a  very  stylish  butler,  who  looks 
positively  gorgeous  on  state  occasions.  I  dined  there  recently, 
and  was  struck  with  his  manly  beauty.  Such  legs,  Swiss !  Then 
Mr.  Bottomry,  who  made  such  a  lot  of  money  on  cotton,  has  a  gor 
geous  butler,  that  he  took  with  the  property  when  he  bought  Den- 
ham's  estate.  None  of  these  know  Kitty " 

"  What  rubbish  you  are  talking,  Parson!  Now  listen  to  some 
sensible  observations.  This  Butler  joined  our  ship  at  Port  Philip. 
I  heard  him  talk,  and  discovered  by  his  accent,  first,  that  he  was 
Devonshire,  and  second,  that  he  was  Lavington " 

"You  are  talking  rubbish  now,  Barston;  Laviugton  has  no 
idioms." 


BAD  NEWS.  115 

"  Indeed !"  replied  Barston.  "  Well,  I  certainly  had  no  intima 
tion  of  his  birthplace,  yet  I  pronounced  him  Lavington  out  at  sea, 
and  he  acknowledged  that  I  was  right.  You  need  not  laugh. 
There  is  a  certain  sound  in  words  ending  in  E  peculiar  to  Laviug- 
ton." 

"  For  example  P  said  Mr.  Harwood. 

"  Contour,  uproar,  far,  spar,  bar,  tar " 

''  Very  good,  Swiss.  I  notice  that  you  twist  your  tongue  half  a 
dozen  times  round  the  terminal  letter — but  who  else  P 

"  Why,  Jack  Lacy." 

"  Well,  any  others  P 

"  Yes  j  mother  always  did." 

"  Any  other  ?" 

"Yes;  Mr.  Butler." 

"Who  finishes  your  catalogue.  Now,  Swiss,  Til  give  you  a 
little  solid  learning.  That  unfortunate  twist  in  your  tongue  was 
inherited  from  the  Countess  De  Lys,  the  ancestress  of  yourself, 
your  mother,  and  Jack.  It  is  merely  a  Gallic  shibboleth.  Mr. 
Butler  probably  was  similarly  unfortunate  in  having  a  French 
ancestor.  You  never  heard  me,  or  Allen,  or  Father,  or  Eet  talk  in 
that  absurd  fashion." 

"  No,"  answered  Barston  dryly,  "  you  are  all  new  comers.  You 
have  brought  with  you  the  lazy  drawl  of  Essex.  I  don't  remem 
ber  just  at  this  moment  any  other  examples,  but  no  doubt  there 
are  plenty  within  reach.  I  wish  you  would  look  after  that  Butler 
a  little.  I  have  an  uncomfortable  presentiment  whenever  I  think 
of  him.  I  don't  know  any  harm  of  him,  however.  He  is  a  good 
sailor,  a  glum  sort  of  fellow,  but  sober,  self-contained  and  silent. 
There  seems  to  be  large  capacity  for  evil  in  him." 

"Come  back  to  the  mutton,  Swiss.  Your  own  matrimonial 
plans  are  more  interesting  to  me.  Now,  I  will  venture " 

"  Look  you,  Johnny,  I  will  answer  you  once  for  all,  seriously 
and  positively.  The  woman  does  not  live  whom  I  can  ask  to 
marry  me !  You  need  not  look  shocked.  Just  rest  content  with 
this  assurance.  I  were  a  wretch  to  think  of  it  P  And  he  strode 
over  the  rector's  carpet  with  the  tread  of  a  giant,  his  smooth  brow 
and  placid  eyes  openly  contradicting  his  dilated  nostrils  and  quiv 
ering  lips.  "  Some  day  I  will  perhaps  tell  you  a  story,  Parson. 
If  I  ever  tell  it  you  shall  be  my  auditor.  I  have  never  whispered 
a  syllable  of  it  to  any  man  excepting  One,  whose  human  sym 
pathy  and  whose  divine  compassion  are  both  engaged  in  my 


116  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

behalf.    And  I  am  sure  I  should  have  gone  mad  long  ago  if  He 
had  not  heard  and  helped." 

The  rector  rose,  and  putting  his  arm  round  the  burly  waist  of 
his  friend,  walked  silently  by  his  side.  Present^  they  stopped 
by  a  book-case,  and  the  rector  produced  some  cigars.  As  they 
lighted  them  he  touched  the  bell  and  a  servant  entered  and 
removed  the  breakfast  remnants.  Then  they  drew  their  chairs  to 
the  window,  and  throwing  open  the  sash  they  filled  the  outer  air 
with  their  fumigations. 

u  Swiss,  my  dear  brother,"  said  the  rector  tenderly,  "  I  am 
about  to  lighten  your  sorrows  by  telling  you  something " 

Barston  started,  and  looked  upon  him  with  dilated  eyes. 

"  I  know  how  to  make  you  forget  your  troubles,"  continued  Mr. 
Harwood ;  "  it  is  only  to  excite  your  sympathy.  Know,  then,  that 
I  also  am  greatly  afflicted." 

Swiss  studied  his  distressed  countenance  with  great  concern 
but  made  no  reply. 

"  What  I  tell  you,  Swiss,  I  have  gathered  in  fragments,  by  ob 
servation  and  inference.  I  have  not  spoken,  to  any  one  about 
either " 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  l either?'"  said  Barston. 

"  Either  trouble,  for  I  have  two.  The  first  is  not  entirely  per 
sonal.  It  relates  to  Ket,  however— —  " 

"  Don't  torture  me  with  your  horrible  rigmarole.  Say  what  you 
have  to  tell." 

"  I  hardly  know  how.  Jack  is  going  astray  and  is  fast  break 
ing  Ret's  heart.  I  don't  know  what  he  is  doing.  I  have  only  been 
able  to  detect  restraint  and  anxiety,  but  have  not  dared  to  ask 
any  questions.  Perhaps  I  overrate  the  trouble,  but  I  know  that 
my  sister  is  unhappy  and  that  her  husband  neglects  her  cruelly." 

"  How  long  has  this  been  the  case?"  said  Barstou. 

"  Always.  They  went  to  the  continent  for  the  honeymoon. 
The  restraint  and  anxiety  were  Visible  to  me  when  they  returned. 
I  sometimes  think  my  Mother  suspects  it,  but  am  not  sure.  Eet 
does  not  dissemble,  but  she  makes  no  sign.  My  inference  is  that 
Jack  gambles.  He  is  in  a  bad  set.  Callahan  is  at  Exeter  with 
his  regiment,  and  he  and  a  lot  of  his  fellows  are  at  DeVere's  every 
week,  and  Sir  John  always  meets  them  there.  They  play  every 
night,  and  for  high  stakes,  I  fear.  Old  Mr.  Bottomry,  who  has  the 
reputation  .of  lending  money  upon  good  security,  asked  me  some 
questions  touching  the  value  of  the  Eed  Hall  and  lands  only  a 


COLONEL  SIR  JOHN  LACY.  Ill 

week  ago.  I  don't  believe  he  would  have  made  the  inquiries 
without  an  object,  aiid  I  suppose  Jack  is  trying  to  borrow  money 
from  him.  I  was  at  the  Hall  yesterday  and  learned — not  from 
Eet  but  from  Mother — that  Sir  John  had  been  absent  a  week. 
One  would  think  that  nothing  short  of  urgent  business  would  take 
him  away  at  such  a  time.  Ret  is  very  much  engrossed  with  her 
baby,  and  did  not  appear  distressed ;  but,  Swiss,  that  marriage 
has  proved  a  failure.  Alas !  it  is  a  horrible  failure !"  and  the  rec 
tor  covered  his  face  with  his  hands  and  groaned  aloud. 

"  Johnny,"  said  Barston  steadily,  "  it  may  not  be  so  bad  as  you 
think.  It  may  be  that  God  has  brought  me  home  in  time.  You 
were  right  about  my  sorrows ;  they  are  all  gone.  And  now  I  have 
positive,  clearly  defined  work  before  me,  which  I  hope  to  perform." 

"  What  is  your  purpose,  Swiss  ?" 

"  To  restore  Jack's  honeymoon !  I  want  wisdom  and  grace. 
Oh !  Johnny,  I  am  sorely  distressed !  I  see,  better  than  you  can, 
how  Jack  has  been  misled — led  captive  by  the  devil  of  play.  It 
is  the  outbreaking  of  an  old  leprosy.  I  got  him  away  from  Baden 
last  year  almost  by  violence.  He  is  the  most  desperate  gambler 
I  have  ever  seen  or  read  about.  And  you,  dear  friend,  have  been 
brooding  over  this  all  this  time.  Why  have  you  not  consulted 
Lord  Morton  ?" 

u  Ah,  Barston,  how  could  I  distress  my  Father " 

"  It  would  have  been  better  and  wiser ;  but  now  let  us  keep  this 
miserable  secret  between  us.  If  I  cannot  restore  Jack  to  paths  of 
rectitude  110  one  else  can.  Heigho !  Out  of  the  depths  have  I 
cried  unto  thec,  O  Lord !  Heavenly  wisdom  is  the  prerequisite 
here.  If  any  man  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God,  who  giveth 
liberally.  That  is  a  faulty  translation,  Parson ;  it  is  not '  liberally,' 
it  is  far  more.  The  word  is  '  simply  ;'  that  is,  God  giveth  simply — 
as  if  all  His  perfections  culminated  in  His  character  of  the  Giver. 
What  blind  moles  men  are  to  yield  to  despair !  Courage,  Johnny ! 
I  have  a  Proseuche !" 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

COLONEL  SIR  JOHN  LACY. 

WHILE  the  two  friends  were  discussing  the  matters  recorded 
in  the  preceding  chapter,  Sir  John  Lacy  was  rapidly  riding 
towards  the  Red  Hall.    He  had  spent  the  previous  night  at  Mr. 
DeVerc's  with  two  or  three  officers  from  Exeter.    The  rumours  of 


118  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

heavy  play  were  founded  on  fact,  and  Lacy  had  lost  large  sums, 
and  his  friends  had  given  him  very  significant  hints  of  their  desire 
for  settlements.  At  the  time  of  his  marriage  Lord  Morton,  who 
had  been  his  guardian,  announced  his  intention  of  paying  the 
mortgage  upon  the  Lacy  estate ;  bat  the  solicitor  who  represented 
the  holder  of  this  claim  had  declared  it  satisfied,  asserting  that 
some  transactions  between  him  and  Sir  Elbert  Lacy  were  still  un 
settled,  and  enough  money  remained  in  his  hands  to  free  the  Red 
Hall  from  encumbrance.  Mr.  Parchment  was  very  much  dissatis 
fied  with  the  report  he  received,  but  he  could  extort  nothing 
from  his  brother  solicitor  beyond  the  bare  acknowledgment  that 
the  mortgage  was  paid.  The  ten  thousand  pounds  which  had 
been  devoted  to  this  object  Lord  Morton  then  settled  upon  his 
daughter.  It  was  all  gone  before  the  happy  pair  returned  from 
the  Continent,  and  poor  Ret  came  home  disenchanted.  Her  ex 
postulations  seemed  to  cause  her  husband  such  exquisite  pain  that 
she  shrank  from  their  repetition  until  the  last  of  the  money  was 
gone.  He  was  repentant  and  full  of  plans  of  reformation,  when 
they  were  fairly  settled  at  the  Eed  Hall,  until  he  met  his  old 
associates,  Oallahan  and  others,  a  few  months  before  Barston's 
return. 

The  rector  was  right  in  his  surmise  about  the  mortgage.  Mr. 
Bottomry  had  a  lien  upon  the  Red  Hall  equal  to  the  amount  Bar- 
ston  had  secretly  paid,  and  it  was  Sir  John's  application  for  an 
additional  loan  that  had  induced  the  old  money  lender's  questions 
to  Mr.  Harwood. 

The  baronet  had  recently  been  elected  colonel  of  a  regiment  of 
volunteers.  It  was  at  the  time  when  the  formation  of  rifle  regi 
ments  was  the  popular  amusement  of  Englishmen.  There  was  a 
review  to  come  off  to-morrow  on  the  downs  near  Lavington,  and 
Sir  John  was  going  to  the  Red  Hall  for  his  uniform. 

And  something  else. 

This  inveterate  gambler  had  arrived  at  the  point  reached  by  all 
fools  who  fall  into  that  vortex.  He  thought  he  had  learned  how 
to  win,  and  if  he  could  only  get  a  few  thousands  to  start  with 
he  could  soon  reclaim  his  losses.  He  had  seen  Mr.  Bottomry 
that  morning,  who  declined  making  further  advances  upon  the 
Red  Hall  unless  "  Lady  Lacy's  dower  right  were  vacated."  He 
would  lend  upon  other  property,  such  as  jewels,  but  the  ten  thous 
and  he  had  already  lent  was  the  utmost  extent  he  would  go  upon 
Sir  John's  signature  alone. 


COLONEL  SIR  JOHN  LACY,  119 

"  Now,"  thought  the  baronet,  as  he  cantered  over  the  turf,  "  if 
I  can  persuade  Eet  to  sign  the  paper,  or  get  her  to  lend  ine  her 
diamonds,  I  shall  be  all  right  again." 

He  threw  his  bridle  into  the  hand  of  his  groom  and  entering 
the  hall  met  Mrs.  Frooine  the  housekeeper.  The  old  lady  was 
perpetually  on  the  watch  for  dismal  portents. 

"  How  fares  my  lady  f '  said  he. 

"  Better,  Sir  John.  She  is  sitting  up  in  her  chamber.  Walk 
up,  sir." 

"  Presently,  Mrs.  Froome.  I  came  away  so  early  that  I  have 
had  no  breakfast.  Can  you  send  me  a  chop  and  a  cup  of  tea  P 

"  Certainly,  Sir  John.    Where  shall  I  serve  P 

"  In  the  library,  please.  I  want  to  look  over  some  papers.  Can 
you  ask  my  lady  for  the  safe  key  P 

"Yes,  sir;  but — but  hadn't  you  better  step  up  yourself1?  It 
will  take  a  few  minutes  to  cook  the  chop,  and  my  lady  might 
think " 

"  Oh,  certainly.  I  have  been  away  two  days.  I'll  be  down  in 
a  few  minutes,  Mrs.  Froome,"  and  he  went  up  the  great  stairs. 

"  Dear  me !"  muttered  Mrs.  Froome ;  "  he  said  the  identical 
words  :  '  How  fares  my  lady  ?'  When  the  Eed  Lacy  came  in  that 
fearful  night  that  was  his  question.  I  vow  he  looks  like  the  pic 
ture,  too  !"  So  saying  she  bustled  off  to  the  kitchen  to  order  Sir 
John's  breakfast. 

The  pallid  face  of  Lady  Lacy  flushed  slightly  as  her  husband 
entered  the  chamber.  She  was  in  a  reclining  chair  near  the  open 
window.  Miss  Tamworth  was  by  her  side,  holding  the  sleeping 
babe  upon  her  lap. 

"  Good  morning,  Eet.  Good  morning,  Miss  Clare.  I  am  glad 
to  see  you  sitting  up,  my  dear.  Is  that  the  heiress  of  Lacy? 
What  a  jolly  little  mite  it  is !  I  had  forgotten  the  review,  Eet, 
which  comes  off  to-morrow,  you  know.  I  wish  you  were  well 
enough  to  drive  over  to  the  downs.  Miss  Tain  worth,  you  can  go, 
certainly." 

"  Not  without  Eet,  Sir  John.  We  shall  have  to  wait  for  the  next 
time.  Take  this  chair." 

"  No,  thank  you.  I  am  going  to  get  a  chop  in  the  library.  I 
left  DeVere's  before  they  were  up,  and  the  ride  has  given  me  a 
famous  appetite.  My  lady,  lend  nie  the  safe  key,  please ;  I  want 
to  look  over  some  law  papers." 

"  The  key  is  in  the  jewel  case.  There  it  is,  near  the  head  of  the 
bed.  It  opens  with  a  spring.  You  know  the  secret  P 


120  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Oil,  yes ;  open  sesame !  Comme  fa- !  Here  it  is  ;"  and  he 
held  up  the  key.  I  will  bring  it  back  after  breakfast.  There  is 
Mrs.  Froome's  signal — tinkle,  tinkle !  The  chop  is  ready  and  so 
am  I  Ladies,  au  revoir!  Miss  Lacy,"  and  he  touched  the  cheek 
of  the  infant  timidly,  "  I  wish  I  dared  to  take  you  in  my  arms. 
What  a  jolly  little  pink  mite  it  is!" 

And  stepping  gingerly  over  the  carpet,  with  the  air  of  a  man 
who  respected  the  sanctity  of  a  sick  room,  the  baronet  withdrew. 

After  satisfying  the  cravings  of  his  vigorous  appetite,  the  young 
husband  and  father  set  himself  resolutely  to  the  investigation  of 
his  "  law  papers."  These  consisted  of  copies  of  mortgages  and 
various  memoranda  of  indebtedness,  with  a  statement  of  his 
sources  of  revenue.  With  knitted  brows  Lacy  pursued  his  un 
customary  toil  with  figures  and  estimates,  and  finally  put  away 
the  documents  with  a  sigh. 

"  If  I  could  only  get  clear  of  that  cursed  mortgage  to  old  Bot 
tomry,  and  wipe  out  the  I.  O.  U.  that  Callahan  and  DeVere  hold, 
I  should  be  passably  comfortable."  He  muttered  this  as  he  walk 
ed  restlessly  to  and  fro,  swinging  the  safe  key  on  his  finger.  The 
only  place  to  look  for  lost  property  is  in  the  hole  it  was  lost  in. 
That  stands  to  reason.  Ecarte !  The  devil  never  invented  the 
equal  of  that  game.  But  I  think  I  have  discovered  the  way  to 
win.  And  this  shall  be  my  last  trial,  by  Heaven  !" 

He  sat  down  and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  as  if  to  shut 
out  the  light,  and  after  some  minutes  he  started  up  again  j  he  was 
greatly  disturbed  as  he  resumed  his  march  and  his  self-conimun- 
ings. 

"  Here  is  the  case.  I  must  get  back  that  money !  And  I  must 
have  Bet's  diamonds  to  start  with.  They  are  worth  twenty  thous 
and  pounds.  I  will  borrow  ten  on  them,  and  win  back  iny  lands 
and  money,  and  then  replace  them.  I  cannot  discuss  the  matter 
while  Miss  Tarn  worth  is  there ;  and  the  case  is  lying  waiting  for 
me.  I  touched  it  when  I  got  the  key.  I  can  touch  it  again  when 
I  put  it  back.  After  all,  the  jewels  are  mine  by  a  double  right. 
They  are  the  old  Lacy  heir-loom,  and  I  am  the  legal  owner  of  my 
wife's  personal  property.  And  I  am  only  borrowing  them.  It 
really  looks  like  a  change  of  luck  already  begun  to  have  them 
actually  under  my  hand." 

This  was  very  cogent  reasoning. 

When  he  went  back  to  his  wife's  chamber  he  found  her  nlone. 
Her  chair  had  been  wheeled  round  away  from  the  window  and  she 


COLONEL  SIR  JOHN  LACY.  121 

seemed  to  be  sleeping.  He  went  noiselessly  to  the  corner  where 
the  iron  box  stood,  and  opening  it  replaced  the  key.  The  little 
case  was  there,  and  seizing  it  with  unsteady  hand  he  allowed  the 
iron  lid  to  fall  into  its  place  with  a  snap.  The  sound  aroused  Lady 
Lacy,  and  thrusting  the  jewel  case  into  his  pocket  he  approached 
her  hastily. 

"  I  have  put  the  safe  key  back,"  he  said,  avoiding  her  eye. 

"Have  you F 

"  Yes.  I  must  go  back  to  DeVere's  to  dinner.  He  has  invited 
a  lot  of  fellows  from  Exeter — all  officers  of  the  regiment— and  it 
just  suits  me,  as  I  can  wear  my  uniform,  you  know.  The  review 
comes  off  quite  early " 

"  Mother  will  be  here  this  evening.  I  thought  you  would  be 
home  to-night.  She  has  promised  to  stay  all  the  week." 

"  Well,  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  dining  with  her  to-morrow, 
and  every  other  evening.  This  is  my  last  night  away  from  home. 
Dear  Ret,"  he  continued  remorsefully,  "  you  were  out  of  luck  when 
you  took  so  good-for-nothing  a  dog  as  I.  What  a  poor  selfish  wretch 
I  have  been !  But  I  will  do  better  hereafter."  He  stooped  over 
her  and  kissed  her  forehead.  "  This  time  I  am  tied  up  to  these 
fellows,  but  I  shall  be  clear  of  all  entanglements  after  to-night.  I 
must  go  before  Lady  Morton  comes,  1  fear,  as  I  have  to  see  old 
Bottomry  on  business.  Will  you  make  my  excuses  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  you  must  go." 

"  I  think  I  must.  Here  is  Mrs.  Froome.  When  you  go  down, 
Mrs.  Froome,  please  tell  Burgess  to  put  the  military  saddle  and 
holsters  on  Saladin.  I  must  get  niy  uniform.  Good-bye,  my  lady, 
until  to-morrow." 

"  Good-bye !    Will  you  return  early  P 

"  I  hope  so.    Yes,  certainly."    And  so  they  parted. 

An  hour  afterwards  the  handsome  young  soldier  was  cantering 
gaily  down  the  road,  his  long  sabre  hooked  up  to  his  belt.  He  had 
met  Lady  Morton's  carriage,  and  exchanged  greetings  with  his 
mother-in-law,  giving  her  encouraging  accounts  of  Bet's  convales 
cence.  "  What  a  beautiful  boy  he  is !"  thought  Lady  Morton  as  the 
carriage  proceeded,"  if  he  were  only  more  stable.  Perhaps  paternity 
may  sober  him.  I  hope  so  for  Eet's  sake.  People  get  along  with 
out  very  excessive  love  now-a-days!"  and  she  mused  upon  the 
short,  undemonstrative  married  life  of  her  daughter  until  the  car 
riage  stopped  at  the  grand  entrance  to  the  Eed  Hall. 

It  was  near  the  close  of  the  afternoon  when  Sir  John  turned  out 


122  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

*  of  the  main  road  and  rode  down  a  shady  lane.  Mr.  Bottomry's 
house  was  a  mile  or  two  off  by  the  lane.  The  baronet  remem 
bered  a  short  cut  across  the  meadow,  and  selecting  a  low  place 
in  the  hedge  he  spurred  his  horse  to  the  leap,  and  as  he  struck  the 
soft  turf  on  the  other  side  of  the  hedge  he  reined  up  Saladin  to 
avoid  the  shock,  as  another  cavalier  galloped  up  to  the  spot  he  had 
just  cleared. 


CHAPTEE   XX. 

Swiss. 

"TACK!" 

U    "Swiss!" 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  Where  are  you  from  F  said  both  to 
gether,  as  they  shook  hands  with  great  vigour. 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  meet  you,  dear  Jack,"  said  Barston.  "  I  have 
been  to  the  Eipple  Farm,  and  came  through  by  Bottomry's.  Were 
you  going  there  f ' 

"Yes,"  answered  Sir  John  doubtfully.  "What  in  the  world 
did  you  want  of  Bottomry  ?  Surely  you  don't  want  to  borrow 
money  ?" 

"  No,  indeed,  I  am  rolling  in  wealth.  I  should  like  to  see  you 
borrowing  from  anybody  else  than  Lacy  Barston.  So !  You  were 
on  your  way  to  this  old  rascal,  were  you  ?  What  do  you  want 
with  money,  Jack,  and  how  much  do  you  want  f 

"  Too  much  for  you.  to  lend  me,  Swiss,"  answered  the  baronet 
gloomily. 

"  That  answers  only  one  question.    What  is  your  present  need  f 

"Don't  ask  me,  Swiss.  Please  let  me  go  to  Bottomry  now.  I 
pledge  you  my  honour  that  I  will  never  go  there  again." 

"  You  won't  go  this  time  either,"  answered  Swiss,  positively.  "I 
have  just  left  Bottomry,  and  you  are  out  of  his  debt.  Here !  I 
have  bought  your  mortgage,  Jack,  and  I  would  tear  it  up  before 
your  eyes  only  there  are  certain  legal  formalities  to  observe. 
Meantime,  you  owe  me  ten  thousand  pounds." 

"Swiss!" 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Jack  ?" 

"ToDeVere's." 

"  Well,  I  called  there  this  morning,  too,  and  have  an  invitation 
to  dine  and  sleep  there.  If  you  go,  I  go." 


SWISS.  123 

"  Oh,  Swiss,  I  don't  want  you  to  go.  Just  give  me  this  one 
night.  I  caimot  tell  you  any  lies.  Those  fellows  have  won  so 
huge  a  lot  of  tin  from  me  that  I  am  desperate.  I  was  going  to 
borrow  a  little  more  from  Bottomry  and  then  win  back  my  losses." 

"  Poor  Jack,"  answered  Barstou  pitifully ;  "  why,  you  foolish  boy, 
you  can  never  win  from  Callahan  and  DeVere.  If  you  had  all  of 
Bottomry's  money  tliey  would  have  it  before  morning.  I  know 
them  thoroughly.  They  are  unprincipled  sharpers,  and  if  they 
don't  positively  cheat,  they  at  least  have  a  way  of  winning  that 
is  infallible.  Did  I  ever  deceive  you,  Jack  P 

il  Never,  Swiss." 

"  You  can't  win,  Jack,  because  you  are  a  gentleman.  Those  fel 
lows  are  not  troubled  with  that  obstacle.  They  are  blacklegs !" 

"  Fie,  Swiss  !    You  should  not  say  so." 

"  But  I  should,  Jack,  because  it  is  true." 

"  You  should  not  say  so  in  their  absence"." 

"  I  will  repeat  it,  Jack,  in  their  presence  to-night  if  I  go  back 
with  you,"  answered  his  friend  quietly. 

"  You  would  have  to  fight  them,  Swiss." 

"  Very  likely.  If  any  of  their  brother  officers  overheard  my 
remarks  they  could  hardly  avoid  it." 

"And  then  F 

"  And  then  I  would  fight  them,  with  cavalry  sabres  and  cut  off 
their  fingers,"  replied  Swiss  coolly.  "  It  would  spoil  their  skill 
at  ecarte.  Don't  you  believe  I  could  do  it  ?  You  have  seen  me  • 
handle  the  implement.  Here,  hand  me  your  sabre.  So,  Eoland !" 
and  taking  the  weapon  he  rode  up  to  the  hedge.  "  See  here,  Jack, 
here  are  five  buds,  watch  them !"  Waving  the  bright  blade  above 
his  head  as  it  flashed  in  the  sunlight,  he  went  through  the  ordi 
nary^  exercise,  counting  at  each  stroke. 

"  One,  two,  three,  four,  five !  There  are  the  buds  on  the  turf. 
E  have  the  same  wrist  that  I  brought  from  the  Crimea.  Do  you 
remember  that  poor  Cossack  that  wounded  Eoland  ?" 

"  Yes,  Swiss.  He  thrust  his  spear  into  Eoland's  neck  because 
you  would  not  let  him  get  at  me,  and  then  you  laid  his  shoulder 
open." 

"Exactly!  If  he  had  been  playing  ecarte"  with  you  I  should 
have  taken  his  fingers.  Come,  Jack,  brother,  come  home!" 

"Impossible!  My  regiment  parades  to-morrow,  and  I  have 
promised  DeVere  to  spend  the  night  with  him. '' 

"  But  I  bear  you  his  permission  to  spend  it  with  me  instead," 


124  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

answered  Barston.  "  I  told  him  I  had  just  arrived  from  India, 
and  he  could  not  deny  me.  I  could  not  ask  him  about  your  debts 
to  him,  Jack,"  he  continued  simply,  "  because  that  would  have 
been  indecorous,  and  because  I  knew  you  would  tell  me.  I  will 
pay  him.  Come  home !" 

"  Barston,"  said  Lacy,  with  glistening  eyes,  "  I  cannot  take  this 
money  from  you.  You  cannot  humiliate  me  so,  can  you  ?  Don't 
you  see  how  sorely  you  hurt  me  ?" 

"  Jack !"  said  Swiss,  his  loving  eyes  blazing — "  dear  kinsman, 
bethink  you !  In  all  the  world  I  have  no  kindred  but  you  and 
your  baby.  When  Parson  Johnny  told  me  of  her  birth  I  vowed 
she  should  be  my  heiress.  I  have  brought  a  hundred  thousand 
pounds  home  with  me.  I  left  as  much  in  England.  Why  should 
you  not  have  it  now?  It  is  yours  if  you  outlive  me,  and  it  is  your 
child's  anyhow.  To  whom  could  I  leave  this  useless  money  ?  and 
how  much  more  sensible  and  pleasant  to  share  it  with  you  now, 
while  none  will  know  it  but  ourselves  and  God.  Humiliate  you, 
my  brother  !  Why,  Jack,  you  put  me  to  shame,  because  you  com 
pel  me  to  remind  you  that  I  have  placed  my  life  between  you  and 
danger  more  than  once.  Do  you  think  more  of  my  money  than  of 
my  blood  ?  Oh,  Jack,  you  need  not  be  told  that  I  am  ready  to  im 
peril  life  and  fortune  for  you  and  yours,  now  and  always." 

"  Swiss,"  said  Lacy,  "  suppose  our  cases  were  reversed.  If  you 
had  been  foolish  and  weak  and  had  involved  yourself  in  ruin ; 
suppose  I  had  two  hundred  thousand  pounds,  would  you  take 
my  charity  and  live  in  idleness  and  peace?" 

Barston  winced.  His  entire  life  had  been  one  of  sturdy  inde 
pendence.  His  slender  patrimony  had  barely  sufficed  for  his 
simple  wants  until  his  eccentric  kinsman  had  left  him  his  fortune, 
and  yet  no  eloquence  could  persuade  him  to  accept  a  penny  from 
the  old  Indian  while  he  lived. 

"  Jack,"  he  said,  at  last,  "  your  question  is  unfair.  I  am  so 
constituted  that  I  could  not  have  fallen  into  similar  circumstances. 
For  example:  I  could  not  play  ecarte  at  all.  I  couldn't  bear  to 
keep  the  money  if  I  won  ;  it  would  scorch  my  fingers !  Again,  I 
could  never  have  been  deceived  and  cheated  by  such  shallow 
knaves  as  Callahan  and  DeVere.  But,  brother !"  and  here  his 
great  eyes  kindled  again,  "  if  you  had  inherited  money,  and  I  were 
in  need,  surely  I  would  take  freely  from  you  what  you  would  freely 
offer  me ;  especially,  if  you  had  no  mortal  nearer  than  myself  to 
share  with  you." 


SWISS.  125 

"  But  you  will  marry,  Swiss " 

'•  Never !  my  heart  is  in  the  grave !"  replied  Swiss  passionately. 
"  Oh,  Jack  !  my  heart  is  hard  as  the  nether  millstone — dead  as  a 
ton  of  door  nails !  and  if  you  deny  me  the  brother's  right  to  help 
you,  to  live  for  you,  to  deliver  you  from  the  devil's  clutches,  as  in 
the  present  emergency,  to  restore  you  to  your  wife  with  the 
burden  off  your  heart — oh,  Jack,  do  you  not  know  that  she  is 
withering  under  the  same  burden ! — if  you  deny  me  now,  I  swear 
to  you  the  blessed  sun  shines  in  vain  for  me !" 

"  I  am  conquered,  Swiss !  God  helping  me,  I  will  nevermore 
touch  a  card !  I  will  do  precisely  what  you  say,  dear  kinsman, 
true  friend,  loyal  gentleman !  Shall  I  go  directly  home  f  You 
do  not  doubt  me  ?" 

"  Doubt  you,  Jack!    Surely  not.    You  may  go  to  DeYere's  if 
you  like.    I  will  trust  you  in  the  very  jaws  of  the  pit,  now  that  I 
have  your  promise.    Will  you  let  me  settle  with  those  villains 
or  will  you  take  some  of  your  money  to-morrow  and  do  it  your 
self?" 

"  Better  let  me  do  it.  I  will  ride  back  now.  Where  are  you 
going?  Won't  you  come  with  me "?" 

"  As  far  as  Lavington.  I  must  see  Parson  Johnny  to-night. 
To-morrow  I  want  to  see  my  heiress.  Ha !  Eoland,  over  we  go ! 
Come  oii,  Jack  !  Saladin  leaps  like  an  antelope.  Here,  put  up 
your  sabre  again.  I  forgot  I  had  it." 

"  It  looks  very  stupid,  Swiss,"  said  Sir  John,  "  for  me  to  be 
riding  over  the  country  in  all  this  finery." 

"  Behold !"  answered  Barston,  "  the  orb  of  day  is  sinking  be 
hind  the  western  hills.  An  hour  hence  he  will  be  hidden  beneath 
the  tossing  waves,  and  then  we  will  ride  on  in  darkness  and 
your  finery  will  be  invisible.  By  the  time  the  moon  appears  you 
will  be  within  striking  distance  of  the  Ked  Hall,  and  when  her 
light  appears  above  the  tree-tops  of  the  Dark  Wood  you  will  be 
filling  yonr  wife's  heart  with  joy  in  telling  her  of  your  late  re 
solve." 

"  And  of  my  brother's  faithful  love " 

"  None  of  that  nonsense,  Jack.  Just  tell  her  that  you  have  re 
flected  and  decided  to  do  right.  Don't  bother  her  about  your 
pecuniary  affairs.  Women  don't  know  anything  about  such 
matters ;  and  besides,  she  might  tell  Lord  Morton,  and  make  all 
sorts  of  mischief.  I  think  you  and  I  can  arrange  everything.  You 
know  my  father  was  your  guardian,  and  no  doubt  he  owed  you  a 
lot  of  money .  What  are  you  laughing  at  ?" 


126  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS.. 

"  It  sounds  so  funny  to  hear  you  lying,  Swiss !" 

u  You're  another !"  said  Barston.  il  Here's  my  road  and  there 
is  yours.  Oh,  Jack !  if  I  could  only  tell  you  how  happy  you  have 
made  me.  The  last  vestige  of  pure  emotion  that  is  left  me  is  my 
love  for  you !  Good  night !  God  bless  you,  old  Jack !" 

"  Good  night !    God  bless  you,  old  Swiss !" 


CHAPTEE    XXI. 
THE   POWER   OF   PRAYER. 

a  -pAESON  JOHNNY,"  said  Swiss,  pushing  his  chair  back 

-L  from  the  table,  "  this  business  of  feeding  three  or  four 
times  a  day  is  altogether  unworthy  of  intellectual  beings." 

"  It  depends  a  little  upon  physiological  science,  Swiss,"  answered 
the  rector.  "  If  the  brain  is  the  thinking  part  of  your  organism, 
the  doctors  say  it  requires  supplies  of  phosphorus,  which  you  get 
from  food." 

"  Very  well.  I  accept  the  explanation.  I  wonder  if  there  is 
any  phosphorus  in  curds  ?  The  old  lady  had  two  to-day,  and  I 
am  afraid  I  ate  both  of  them." 

"  Where  did  you  find  Jack?" 

"  In  Bottomry's  meadow ;  I  went  first  to  my  Proseuche " 

"  What  in  the  world  do  you  mean,  Swiss  ?" 

"  Don't  you  know  I  Well,  Paul  found  Lydia  at  one  of  those 
places  '  where  prayer  was  wont  to  be  made' — that  is, i ProseucheS 
Some  of  the  patriarchs  had  them.  Jacob  had  several;  Bethel 
was  one.  Samuel  had  one,  where  he  reared  the  great  pillar, 
Ebenezer.  No  doubt  Paul  had  one " 

"  You  mean  Saint  Paul,  I  presume,"  put  in  the  rector. 

"  Yes.  I  also  mean  sinner  Paul.  He  bore  both  titles.  Concern, 
ing  his  saintship,  he  says  he  is  less  than  the  least  of  all  saints. 
Concerning  the  sinnership,  he  says  he  is  the  chief  of  sinners.  I 
opine  that  the  Proseuche  was  more  precious  in  view  of  the 
latter." 

"Go  on  with  your  story.  I  cannot  stop  to  argue  with  you 
now." 

"  I  suppose  not.  I  went  to  the  curds  next.  Then  to  DeVere's. 
I  found  Callahan  there,  and  found  that  Jack  had  been  there  some 
days.  I  also  learned  that  he  had  gone  home  for  his  uniform,  and 


THE  POWER   OF  PRATER.  127 

that  lie  had  some  business  with  Bottomry.  So  1  went  there.  I, 
also,  had  a  little  business  with  Bottomry,  which  I  despatched. 
Jack  not  arriving,  I  concluded  to  meet  him  en  route,  and  taking-  a 
short  cut  across  a  meadow,  I  found  Sir  John  leaping  the  hedge 
just  as  I  was  putting  Eoland  at  it." 

"  Go  on,  Swiss,"  said  Mr.  Harwood,  with  kindling  eyes. 

"  There  is  not  much  more  to  say,  Johnny.  He  was  overjoyed 
to  see  me,  and  very  soon  told  me  all  his  story.  He  thought  he 
was  terribly  involved,  and  was  consequently  somewhat  cut  up. 
But  the  poor  boy  never  did  know  much  about  figures.  Confiden 
tially,  parson,  those  rascals  have  been  cheating  Jack's  eyes  out 
of  his  head,  but  with  careful  management  he  will  come  out  all 
right.  When  we  compared  notes  he  found  out  he  was  better  off 
by  ten  thousand  pounds  than  he  thought !" 

"  Indeed !    The  notes  you  compared  were  bank  notes " 

"  Your  wit  is  positively  stunning,  parson.  What  I  say  is  that 
Jack  owed  ten  thousand  pounds  less  than  he  thought  when  I  met 
him.  The  little  he  owes  those  blackguards  I'll  lend  him,  and  he 
has  done  with  cards  forever." 

"  Are  you  sure,  Barston  F 

"  Yes,  positively  certain.  I  trust  his  promise,  and  while  he  lives 
I  shall  never  leave  him  again.  Yesterday  I  projected  a  trip  to  the 
Arctic  circle.  I  wished  to  verify  some  isothermal  charts.  To-day 
I  trample  upon  all  the  demands  of  science  and  devote  myself  to 
Jack.  He  is  safer  under  tutelage,  and  he  will  allow  no  one  to 
bully  him  except  old  Swiss." 

"  You  have  never  seen  him  since  his  marriage  until  to-day,"  said 
the  rector.  "  I  remember  that  you  sailed  as  soon  as  the  prelimi 
naries  were  arranged.  Jack  has  your  room  furnished  at  the  Eed 
Hall.  It  is  the  great  room — Sir  Ranald's." 

Barston's  pleasant  face  clouded.  A  troop  of  thoughts  galloped 
through  his  mind,  all  of  them  painful.  He  tried  to  think  of  Ret 
and  her  child  as  rejoicing  in  Jack's  peaceful  life,  but  he  could  not. 
Something  oppressed  him,  and  he  longed  for  some  secret  place 
where  he  might  hide  himself  and  groan,  and  as  he  glanced  out  at 
the  pure  moonlight  he  actually  thought  of  getting  his  horse  again 
and  seeking  his  "  munition  of  rocks." 

"  Parson,"  he  said  suddenly,  "  you  know  Episcopal  preaching 
usually  consists  of  moral  essays  twenty  minutes  long.  Suppose 
you  vary  the  performance  and  give  your  flock  something  didac 
tic  P 


128  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

u  What  can  you  suggest,  Swiss  f  replied  tlie  rector,  good- 
humouredly. 

"  The  potency  of  prayer.  Let  us  discuss  it  a  little  and  you  can 
write  a  sermon  in  an  hour.  There  are  only  two  or  three  points." 

"  With  all  my  heart.  I  should  like  to  have  you  for  my  curate, 
Swiss.  Begin !" 

"  First,  then,  the  condition  of  the  creature,  when  normal,  is  de 
pendence  upon  the  Creator.  Elaborate  that.  You  will  find  some 
good  hints  in  John  Owen  on  the  one  hundred  and  thirtieth 
Psalm,  if  you  don't  mind  stealing  some  old  thunder.  You  will  be 
pretty  safe,  as  no  man  among  your  auditors  will  detect  the  theft 
unless  I  am  there." 

"  That  is  very  good,  my  reverend  friend.  So  much  for  the  duty. 
Xow  for  the  encouragement." 

"  It  is  not  so  easy.  If  you  make  your  argument  upon  bare 
revelation  there  is  no  difficulty.  There  are  multitudes  of  texts 
containing  the  promise  of  success.  I  need  not  quote  them  to  you. 
But  there  is  a  little  book,  by  Godwin,  called  t  The  Beturn  of 
Prayers,'  which  has  some  wonderfully  clear  arguments  set  forth 
in  quaint  style.  This,  also,  is  a  safe  place  from  which  to  steal 
ideas,  as  the  book  is  not  at  all  popular." 

"I  have  the  book  and  have  read  it  with  great  pleasure  and 
profit.  John  Owen,  also.  It  is  quite  likely  that  I  have  already  used 
them  both  without  quotation  marks.  But  you  have  not  suggested 
what  I  am  waiting  for.  I  want  some  distinct  line  of  argument 
that  will  meet  the  current  unbelief  of  humanity.  Men  repeat 
prayers,  day  by  day,  with  some  vague  apprehension  of  the  duty, 
and  still  more  vague  expectation  of  profit.  How  can  I  argue  to 
make  this  expectation  distinct  and  positive?" 

Barston  rested  his  head  on  his  hand  and  mused.  The  rector's 
question  was  a  hard  one,  and  the  ready  answers  that  came  into 
his  mind  were  not  arranged  in  order  for  didactic  discourse. 

"  Let  us  light  our  cigars,  Parson,  and  walk  out  in  the  moon 
light,"  he  said  at  length.  "  Perhaps  I  can  shake  my  ideas  into 
shape  as  we  walk." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  answered  the  rector.  "  We  will  walk  the 
entire  length  of  the  street,  and  then  our  cigars  will  have  van 
ished.  As  we  return  we  will  stop  and  see  Kitty  Willis.  I  should 
like  to  ask  her  some  friendly  questions  about  this  new  arrival — 
what  do  you  call  him — Mr.  Butler  1" 

Miss  Kitty  answered  their  knock  in  person.    They  found  an 


THE  POWER   OF  PRAYER.  129 

old  dame  in  the  little  parlour,  who,  Barston  learned  afterwards, 
had  been  living  with  Kitty  since  her  father's  death.  Kitty  was 
an  expert  sempstress,  demure  and  diligent,  and  she  resumed  her 
work,  blushing  a  little  at  the  remembrance  of  her  morning  inter 
view  with  Mr.  Barstou  ;  but  she  was  so  perfectly  composed  that 
the  rector  found  it  difficult  to  ask  her  his  "  friendly"  questions. 

"  Mr.  Barston  tells  me,"  he  said,  after  the  ordinary  greetings 
had  been  exchanged,  "  that  his  vessel  brought  a  friend  of  yours 
from  Australia — a  Mr.  Butler  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Kitty. 

"  Have  you  known  him  long  ?"  continued  Mr.  Harwood. 

"  Fourteen  years,  sir." 

li  Is  he  a  native  of  Devonshire  ?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Do  you  know  any  of  his  kindred  ?  The  name  is  new  to  me  in 
this  locality." 

u  I  have  not  lived  here  very  long,  sir.  You  know  my  father 
came  only  a  year  before  he  died.  I  did  not  become  acquainted 
with  Mr.  Butler  in  Devon." 

"  Has  he  not  spoken  of  his  family  to  you  F  persisted  the  rector. 

"  Not  much,  sir.  I  believe  he  is  not  on  good  terms  with  his  re 
lations.  I  met  him  first  in  Yorkshire  fourteen  years  ago,  when 
we  were  both  children.  He  afterwards  went  to  sea,  and  has  not 
been  in  England  since,  until  to-day.  There  are  some  reasons  why 
reference  to  his  English  life  is  disagreeable  to  him,  and  I  have 
not  felt  at  liberty  to  distress  him  only  to  gratify  an  idle  curios 
ity."  All  this  was  said  very  steadily,  and  the  rector  was  rather 
discomfited.  Swiss  thought  he  would  like  to  be  somewhere  else, 
but  he  came  to  Mr.  Harwood's  assistance. 

"  It  is  something  more  than  idle  curiosity,  Miss  Willis,"  he  said 
gravely,  "  that  prompts  Mr.  Harwood's  questions.  He  is  much 
interested  in  your  welfare,  and  as  the  rector  of  the  parish,  it  is  his 
duty  to  watch  over  you.  You  may  also  remember  that  your 
father  requested  me  to  shield  you  from  harm  if  any  threatened 
you.  The  obligation  is  binding  upon  me.  I  do  not  assume  such 
responsibilities  lightly,  nor  do  I  relinquish  such  charges  without 
good  reason.  If  you  cannot  satisfy  us  about  the  moral  character 
of  Mr.  Butler,  we  are  both  bound  to  seek  information  from  other 
sources.  You  are  inexperienced,  and  may  be  misled  by  your 
feelings.  We  need  not  tell  you  that  we  have  no  motive  in  our 
interference  but  your  good." 

9 


130  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  You  and  the  rector  are  both  very  kind,  sir,"  answered  the 
girl,  "but  you  may  rely  upon  iny  discretion  in  this  instance.  It 
may  be  that  Mr.  Butler  will  volunteer  to  satisfy  one  or  both  of 
you  in  due  time.  It  would  not  be  proper  for  me  to  suggest  this 
to  him.  You  and  Mr.  Harwood  will  decide  for  yourselves  whether 
or  not  you  are  called  upon  to  investigate  him."  This  was  said 
with  so  much  composure  that  her  visitors  felt  that  their  work  was 
done  for  the  evening.  They  accordingly  bade  her  good  night  and 
retired. 

"It  appears  to  me,  Swiss,"  said  the  rector,  when  they  were 
again  in  the  street,  "  that  Miss  Kitty  rather  got  the  better  of  you 
in  that  discussion.  You  looked  very  crestfallen  as  you  left  her." 

"  Sympathy,  my  dear  Parson,"  answered  Barston.  "  If  you  are 
so  easily  daunted  by  a  woman's  sharp  tongue  in  all  your  pastoral 
visits,  I  pity  you." 

"  I  don't  think  I  ever  encountered  one  like  Kitty's.  She  is  the 
pluckiest  girl  in  the  village.  What  in  the  world  did  you  take  me 
there  for  P 

"  I  believe  you  mean  l  what  in  the  something  else,'  only  you 
don't  like  to  express  your  real  sentiments.  I  did  not  take  you. 
You  took  me." 

"  But  it  was  some  suggestion  of  yours  about  this  Butler  that 
got  me  into  the  mess.  What  is  amiss  in  the  man  ?" 

"  I  cannot  tell,"  replied  Swiss,  thoughtfully.  "  My  instinct, 
which  I  dare  not  distrust  and  cannot  contradict,  bids  me  beware 
of  this  Butler.  I  am  attracted  to  him,  interested  in  him,  and  at 
the  same  time  repelled.  I  am  not  at  all  sure,  however,  that  Kitty 
is  not  a  full  match  for  him.  What  a  tigress  she  is !  It  is  a  curious 
fact  that  she  exerts  the  same  double  influence  upon  me — half  at 
tractive,  half  repulsive.  Her  cold  self-possession  is  a  perpetual 
challenge !" 

"  I  suppose  I  may  as  well  tell  you,  Swiss,  that  I  have  caught 
you  in  a  fraud.  All  that  matter  you  were  trying  to  get  out  about 
the  power  of  prayer  I  read  in  print.  It  was  published  in  the 
Christian  Visitor  about  a  year  ago.  I  remember  it  was  signed 
1  Proseuche.'  Now,  you  read  the  thing  there,  and  have  imbibed 
the  sentiments,  and  have  tried,  in  your  blundering  way,  to  put 
them  forth  as  your  original  thinking." 

"  Was  it  a  good  paper,  Parson?" 

"  Very.    Far  better  than  your  dilution  of  it." 

"  Well,  Parson,"  said  Swiss  coolly,  "  some  of  these  days  your 
sharpness  will  be  the  death  of  you.  I  wrote  that  paper !" 


A  LETTER.  131 

"  Did  you,  old  Swiss  !"  replied  his  friend,  squeezing  his  arm. 
"  You  don't  know  how  much  comfort  you  have  given  me !  I  al 
most  know  it  by  heart.  My  poor  Swiss !  you  must  have  passed 
through  deep  waters  to  have  thought  out  that  article !  But  you 
have  made  me  so  confident  that  I  almost  think  I  can  get  what 
ever  I  ask  for " 

"  So  you  can,  Johnny,  with  certain  limitations.  I  got  Jack  to 
day  because  I  prayed  first.  He  was  going  to  destruction ;  and 
when  I  left  him  he  was  on  the  high  road  to  prosperity  and  peace. 
If  we  don't  get  the  exact  form  of  the  thing  we  pray  for,  we  get 
mors  and  better.  Here  is  the  station,  and  the  London  train  will 
start  in  five  minutes  and  will  take  me.  I  must  see  old  Parchment 
to-morrow.  No  use  to  expostulate,  my  boy.  I  have  to  go.  I  stole 
four  of  your  cigars,  so  I  am  supplied  with  all  necessaries.  There 
is  the  bell,  by  the  three  kings !  Good  night,  Parson." 

The  rector  watched  the  train  until  it  was  lost  to  view  behind 
the  hills,  and  then  slowly  returned  to  the  parsonage.  At  the 
door,  a  groom  holding  a  horse  accosted  him  with  startling  in 
telligence. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Harwood,  please  mount  Saladin  and  ride  at  once  to 
the  Hall !  Sir  John  has  been  thrown,  and  I  am  afraid  he  is  dead. 
I  have  sent  the  doctor,  and  Jennings  went  to  the  Priory  for  Lord 
Morton.  Kide  fast,  sir,  please!" 


"TV  yT 
-i-V_L 


CHAPTER  XXII. 
A  LETTER. 

LONDON,  31st  August,  18  —  . 

Y  DEAR  JOHNNY:  How  can  I  go  to  Devon?  I  cannot. 
There  is  no  possible  occupation  for  me  there.  It  seems 
like  a  year  since  Jack  died,  and  it  has  only  been  two  weeks  !  I 
dare  not  go  back.  Indeed,  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  go.  Do  you  re 
member  Spencer  at  Oxford?  He  has  been  on  two  exploring 
expeditions,  and  to-morrow  starts  on  the  third.  His  destina 
tion  is  the  Antarctic  circle,  and  I  have  enrolled  myself  among 
his  crew.  He  said  Providence  had  certainly  sent  me  to  him,  as 
he  lacked  a  man  with  my  smattering  of  scientific  knowledge, 


132  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

my  smattering  of  medical  lore,  and  my  invincible  physique.  Oh, 
Johnny !  it  is  true  that  Providence  sent  Spencer  to  me,  for  I 
should  have  gone  mad  under  the  terrible  shock,  if  this  long 
voyage  and  its  duties  had  not  been  presented.  I  long  to  get 
away  from  the  earth,  and  this  comes  nearest  to  it.  It  is  the 
wildest  goose-chase  that  any  poor  lunatic  ever  projected.  Yet 
Spencer  is  so  full  of  it,  so  sanguine,  so  determined,  that  I  have 
caught  the  frenzy.  When  this  reaches  you  I  shall  be  on  blue 
water. 

u  Parchment  has  my  will.  I  have  made  you  my  executor, 
Johnny.  If  you  have  to  assume  the  duties  of  the  office,  dear 
friend,  before  another  summer  comes  and  goes,  will  you  not  be 
lieve  that  I  have  found  rest?  Ah,  what  a  full  answer  that  would 
be  to  all  my  prayers  since  they  began  at  my  mother's  knee ! 

"  I  ought  to  say  something  to  you  for  you  to  repeat  to  Lady 
Lacy.  I  was  with  Jack  last.  The  substance  of  our  conversation 
I  told  you  that  fatal  night.  But  she  will  probably  wish,  to  know 
every  word  he  spoke.  Alas !  I  cannot  recall  anything.  I  only 
remember  his  beautiful  face,  full  of  affection,  when  we  parted ; 
and  I  think  I  may  say  his  mind  was  free  from  trouble,  as  he  and 
I  had  fully  arranged  matters  before  we  separated.  All  the  future 
looked  bright  to  him,  poor  boy ! 

"  But  there  is  one  thing  I  may  say  to  you,  and  to  Lady  Lacy 
through  you.  I  have  been  denying  it  to  myself  for  three  or 
four  years,  yet  I  knew  all  the  time  that  it  was  true.  Jack  had 
organic  disease  of  the  heart.  In  the  year  or  two  I  spent  in  the 
hospitals  I  gave  my  special  attention  to  this  class  of  diseases,  the 
more  because  there  are  other  ailments  that  simulate  the  symptoms. 
But  there  are  certain  infallible  signs,  and  Jack  exhibited  them.  I 
stated  his  peculiar  symptoms  to  Doctor  Holly,  who  pronounced 
them  fatal  without  hesitation.  Knowing  this  I  have  been  some 
what  prepared  for  the  shock  of  his  sudden  death,  and  should  now 
be  comparatively  calm  in  the  midst  of  my  sorrow  were  it  not  for 
an  awful  conflict  of  thoughts,  purposes,  memories  and  regrets  that 
overwhelms  me,  and  which  is  as  appalling  as  indescribable.  If  I 
live  a  few  years  I  hope  to  unfold  them  all  to  you,  but  now  my 
only  refuge  from  madness  is  the  salt  spray  of  old  ocean. 

"  I  have  mentioned  the  fact  of  Jack's  disease  for  two  purposes. 
First,  he  has  been  in  the  jaws  of  death  from  his  boyhood,  and  you 
and  I  have  always  been  on  the  verge  of  the  present  distress.  The 
circumstances  might  have  been  infinitely  worse.  Suppose  he  had 


A  LETTER.  133 

died  before  I  met  him  ?  Suppose  the  excitement  of  his  late 
engagements  with  DeVere  and  Callahan  had  been  too  much  for 
him,  and  he  had  died  in  the  midst  of  ecarte !  Second,  it  is  very 
probable  that  he  died  and  then  fell  from  his  horse.  You  tell  me 
there  was  no  scar  or  bruise  upon  him.  I  believe  this  must  have 
been  the  case,  for  he  was  a  thorough  horseman,  and  was  certainly 
not  thrown.  I  have  seen  him  in  a  cavalry  charge  shake  his  feet 
clear  of  the  stirrups  and  stick  to  his  horse  as  if  he  were  part  of 
him,  while  the  mad  brute  was  dashing  frantically  over  a  field 
flashing  with  a  thousand  sabres.  He  could  not  have  been  thrown. 
It  is  true  that  Saladin  may  have  fallen  with  him,  but  there  would 
have  been  some  bruise  or  scar  to  betoken  it  if  he  had.  It  is  possible 
that  Saladin  may  have  fallen  in  his  frightened  gallop  to  the  Hall. 
There  is  a  wide  ditch  between  the  stables  and  the  Dark  Wood, 
I  remember,  and  this  may  account  for  the  earth  stains  on  his 
saddle. 

"  Make  such  use  of  these  suggestions,  in  your  talks  with  Lady 
Lacy,  as  your  own  excellent  sense  will  indicate  to  be  best. 

"  I  must  say  a  word  about  Butler,  and  I  desire  to  write  with 
great  caution  here,  because  I  have  nothing  but  my  instinct  to 
plead  as  a  reason  for  my  profound  distrust  of  the  fellow.  I  know 
absolutely  nothing  of  his  previous  history.  You  heard  Kitty  tell 
of  her  earlier  acquaintance,  and  she  told  very  little.  And  now 
hear  and  heed  !  By  some  sort  of  intuition  I  seem  to  know  that  this 
man's  life  has  been  marred.  There  is  some  hideous  episode  in  his 
history  that  will  stain  it  evermore.  He  is  silent,  watchful,  sus 
picious,  resolute,  passionate.  Once  and  again  I  have  been  im 
pressed  with  the  conviction  that  he  is  of  gentle  breeding.  At  sea 
I  have  watched  him  in  perilous  circumstances,  and  he  has  always 
been  prompt,  cool  and  efficient.  If  I  were  engaged  in  a  desperate 
venture,  where  pluck,  endurance  and  cool  ferocity  would  win,  I 
should  feel  safe  with  Butler  at  iny  side.  I  would  not  hesitate  to 
entrust  uncounted  money  to  his  honesty,  and  if  he  were  my 
enemy  I  should  dread  no  blow  in  the  dark.  He  is  not  that  sort 
of  a  man.  Yet  I  should  feel  assured  that  a  conflict  was  inevita 
ble,  and  that  it  would  be  a  Voutrance  when  it  came.  Sometimes, 
and  indeed  most  times,  I  find  that  I  rather  pity  than  dislike  him, 
yet  I  always  recoil  from  him  and  the  thought  of  him  with  inex 
plicable  horror.  There  must  be  some  reason  for  this!  Watch 
him,  Johnny,  for  Kitty's  sake.  Do  him  no  injustice  because  of 
my  vague  distrust,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  suffer  him  to  do  no 


134  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

wrong  by  disregarding  my  warning.  He  has  plenty  of  money. 
When  he  came  aboard  he  was  from  the  gold  diggings,  and  he 
had  been  very  successful.  The  captain  told  me  that  Butler  had 
given  a  large  bag  of  gold  dust  into  his  charge  when  he  joined  the 
ship. 

"Another  word  about  Kitty.  She  is  handsome  and  good,  I 
believe.  But  this  new-comer  must  be  an  accepted  lover.  I  saw 
him  with  his  arm  around  her  waist  while  she  rested  her  head  on 
his  breast.  She  is  not  the  sort  of  woman  to  assume  such  a  posi 
tion  unless  matters  were  pretty  well  settled  betwixt  them.  She 
is  wonderfully  self-reliant,  and  will  baffle  you  if  you  are  not  cau 
tious  and  persistent.  But  don't  let  that  fellow  get  her  until  you 
know  more  about  him. 

"And  now,  my  dear  Harwood,  I  have  purposely  left  to  the  last  my 
answer  to  your  remark  anent  our  last  conversation.  I  have  thought 
two  or  three  times  since  I  began  this  letter  that  I  would  leave 
that  portion  of  yours  unanswered.  And  then  I  thought  I  would 
content  myself  with  general  reflections,  without  noticing  the  argu- 
mentum  ad  Jiominem.  But  this  would  be  disingenuous,  so  away 
with  it !  I  will  endeavour  to  give  you  my  exact  thoughts,  albeit 
they  are  beclouded  and  somewhat  erratic. 

"  First,  then,  I  hold  to  my  original  proposition.  Man  must 
needs  pray  always.  When  he  does  not  he  contradicts  a  primal 
attribute  of  his  nature.  Second,  this  being  normal,  and  eustamped 
by  the  Creator,  it  is  one  of  Nature's  forces,  as  potent  and  as  real 
as  centripetal  attraction.  There  may  be  other  and  counteracting 
forces,  but  these  must  needs  be  abnormal,  and  the  consequences 
of  the  fall,  and,  therefore,  transient.  You  know  the  late  discus 
sion  touching  the  viscous  flow  of  the  mer  de  glace  in  the  frozen 
north.  It  is  well  established  that  the  ice  Held  continuously  moves 
toward  the  sea,  and  is  constantly  giving  off  the  icebergs,  and 
constantly  being  renewed  from  Nature's  grand  laboratory  in  those 
stern  solitudes.  My  friend,  the  operation  of  this  invisible  force 
illustrates  the  operation  of  the  prayer  power.  It  belongs  to  the 
relation  subsisting  betwixt  Creator  and  intelligent  creature.  Now, 
advancing  a  step,  consider  how  the  higher  relation  of  father  and 
child  augments  the  strength  of  the  argument  and  the  vehemence 
of  the  force !  One  step  more  brings  you  to  the  relations  growing 
out  of  the  covenant,  ordered  and  sure!  And  thus  you  are  shut  up 
under  the  inexorable  logic  of  the  case.  The  symmetry  of  the 
scheme  of  Kedemption  would  be  impaired  under  the  contrary  hy- 


A  LETTER.  135 

pothesis.  No  logical  argument  can  be  constructed  against  this 
statement  that  may  not  be  answered  by  an  appeal  to  the  lapsed 
condition  of  the  race.  By  the  ordinance  of  the  Creator,  man  is  as 
really  a  praying  animal  as  he  is  a  breathing  animal. 

"  Leaving  this  inductive  process,  take  still  higher  ground,  and 
heed  the  testimony  of  Kevelation.  There  you  will  find  the 
facts  stated  in  the  simplest  form,  and  without  limitations.  l  Ask, 
and  ye  shall  receive,  for  every  one  that  asketh  receiveth.'  You  ' 
know  the  force  of  the  original  word.  It  is  '  because '  this  is  the 
law  of  heaven's  jurisprudence  that  the  asker  receives,  the  seeker 
finds. 

"  I  am  now  prepared  to  meet  your  terrible  question  touching 
the  disastrous  failure  of  my  prayers  in  Jack's  case.  I  did  not  fail, 
Parson,  even  in  the  details  !  I  prayed  for  success  in  my  projected 
efforts  for  Jack's  deliverance  and  restoration,  and  I  got  the  an 
swer.  My  poor  boy  was  saved,  and  his  heart  was  quieted  and 
happy  when  we  parted.  His  future  looked  unclouded  to  him, 
and  I  believe  he  passed  away  in  the  sunlight.  It  is  we  who  are 
left  that  mourn. 

"  And  here  I  would  stop  if  I  dared,  but  I  dare  not.  It  is  here  that 
my  thoughts  are  in  chaos  !  I  cannot  bring  order  out  of  the  con 
fusion,  but  it  will  come  anon.  You  hint  that  a  mysterious  Provi 
dence  has  suddenly  reversed  my  prayers,  and  given  me  mourning 
for  joy — the  spirit  of  heaviness  for  the  garment  of  praise.  Dear 
friend,  it  is  not  so.  Personally,  I  am  enveloped  in  clouds  and 
darkness,  for  I  am  sorely  smitten ;  but  behold !  through  rifts  in  the 
dark  cloud  I  do  constantly  see  the  deep,  blue  vault  of  heaven, 
blazing  with  myriad  stars,  and  by  their  light  I  discern  days  and 
years  of  happiness  and  peace  for  nie,  Lacy  Barston,  that  would 
have  come  to  me  never  save  through  the  portals  of  this  dread 
calamity  !  It  is  not  possible  for  me  to  write  coherently  here,  and 
you  must  wait  until  we  meet.  Meantime,  remember  me,  and  re 
ciprocate  the  affection  of 

"  Your  friend, 

"  LACY  BARSTON. 

"  To  the  Rev.  JOHN  HARWOOD,  A.  M.% 
Lavington,  Devon." 


136  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

ANOTHER  LETTEB. 

LAVINGTON,  5th  September,  18 — . 

"  ~\/TY  I)EAE  FATHER:  I  left  mother  and  Allen  witli  Eet 
J3.JL  this  morning,  when  I  came  away  from  the  Hall,  and  I 
rejoice  to  tell  you  that  she  is  quite  well  and  composed.  It  has 
been  a  terrible  shock,  and  I  marvel  that  it  did  not  kill  her,  in  her 
weak  condition.  The  dear  little  baby  has  proved  a  messenger  of 
peace,  and  she  seems  to  have  grown  into  all  the  crevices  of  her 
mother's  heart.  We  have  missed  you  more  than  I  can  tell  you, 
and  we  all  look  forward  to  the  end  of  the  week  with  joyful  antici 
pation.  Nobody  can  fill  the  vacuum  your  absence  makes,  Father. 
"  The  funeral  of  your  poor  old  gamekeeper  brought  me  to  the 
village  to-day.  I  have  been  to  see  him  every  day  since  he  was 
hurt,  and  am  charged  with  many  grateful  messages  from  him  to 
you.  The  last  time  I  saw  him  alive  he  said,  '  Please  your 'rever 
ence,  Master  Johnny,  ask  my  lord  if  he  won't  give  my  place  to  yon 
lad,  Butler,  when  I  am  gone.'  He  then  told  me  all  the  incidents 
of  his  fight  with  the  poachers,  which  I  will  recount  to  you. 

"  It  occurred  on  the  same  night  that  Jack  was  killed.  Old 
Blake  was  in  the  wood  near  the  Lacy  lands,  watching  for  the 
rascals  that  have  been  stealing  your  pheasants.  It  was  quite 
early  in  the  evening  when  they  came — three  of  them.  It  was 
moonlight,  and  he  recognized  them  and  imprudently  called  out 
their  names.  It  was  Groves  and  his  two  sous,  and  they  are  a 
thoroughly  bad  lot.  As  they  were  three  to  one,  they  assaulted 
him,  and  would  probably  have  murdered  him  outright  if  Butler 
had  not  suddenly  appeared.  One  of  the  sons  had  a  knife  and 
wounded  Blake  slightly  and  gave  Butler  an  awful  gash  on  the 
forehead.  It  is  cut  into  the  bone  and  will  disfigure  him  for  life. 
But  notwithstanding  this  wound  he  caught  up  Blake's  gun,  shot 
one  of  the  boys  in  the  legs  and  knocked  the  father  down,  and 
then  helped  Blake  secure  the  third.  It  was  a  plucky  fight.  You 
know  Blake  was  fatally  hurt  afterwards  by  the  accidental  dis 
charge  of  his  own  gun  after  he  reached  his  cottage.  The  doctor 
bound  up  their  wounds,  but  he  says  nothing  can  obliterate  the 
ugly  scar  just  over  Butler's  eyes.  Young  Groves  swore  positively 
that  he  did  not  inflict  the  wound,  and  Butler  said  he  could  not 


ANOTHER  LETTER.  137 

swear  that  he  did.  The  three  Groves  are  committed  for  trial,  how 
ever,  and  will  be  transported. 

"  I  hardly  know  what  to  say,  my  dear  Father,  about  old  Blake's 
suggestion.  I  have  delivered  his  message  to  you,  but  you  will 
expect  me  to  say  something  about  this  new  candidate.  Indeed, 
he  may  hardly  be  called  a  candidate,  as  he  has  said  nothing  about 
the  matter  to  me.  He  is  a  stranger,  resolutely  silent  about  his 
past,  though  he  is  a  native  of  Devonshire.  The  only  person  who 
knows  him  here  is  Kitty  Willis,  and  she  decidedly  declines  giving 
any  information  on  the  subject.  Barstou  told  me  that  he  joined 
his  ship,  the  Orion,  at  Port  Philip,  presenting  no  credentials,  but 
showing  marked  ability  as  a  seaman,  and  Captain  Hardy  gave 
him  some  official  position,  whose  duties  he  performed  faithfully 
and  well.  Swiss  does  not  like  him.  He  says  he  has  coine  through 
a  bad  experience  of  some  sort.  You  will  understand,  and  Swiss 
particularly  reminds  me,  that  he  knows  nothing  against  the  man, 
but  says  he  "  recoils  from  him  instinctively."  I  ought  to  say  here 
that  Barston  is  a  gentleman  of  such  pure  nobility  of  soul,  and  of 
such  delicate  sensibility,  that  his  instincts  are  almost  sure  to  be 
just.  I  wish  you  knew  my  dear  friend  as  intimately  as  I  know 
him.  But  he  may  be  in  error  in  this  case.  I  think  there  is  a 
promise  of  marriage  betwixt  Butler  and  Kitty  Willis,  and  this  is 
in  his  favour,  as  she  is  a  young  woman  of  good  sense,  and  would 
not  be  likely  to  make  an  ill  choice.  Perhaps,  if  you  should  decide 
to  make  him  your  gamekeeper,  he  might  marry  Kitty  and  live  in 
Blake's  cottage.  Dr.  Holly  says  his  wound  is  not  dangerous, 
though  he  escaped  death  by  the  breadth  of  a  hair.  The  cut  looks 
as  if  it  had  been  inflicted  by  a  tomahawk. 

"  Dr.  Holly  also  says,  rather  positively,  that  Sir  John  Lacy  died 
of  heart  disease,  and  that  a  post-mortem  examination  would  prove 
it.  His  theory  is  that  Jack  fell  dead  from  his  horse.  Barston 
wrote  me  the  same  thing  just  before  he  sailed  last  week  on  his 
mad  cruise,  which  is  very  curious,  as  they  certainly  had  not  com 
pared  notes.  You  know  Barston  studied  medicine  before  he  went 
into  the  law. 

"  About  the  matter  of  DeVere  and  Oallahan.  To  think  that  I 
have  been  concealing  from  you,  O  wise  Father,  all  that  I  feared 
about  Jack's  intercourse  with  those  fellows,  and  that  you  knew  all 
the  time !  Well,  sir,  I  went  to  DeVere's  to-day  and  saw  both  him 
and  Callahan.  They  were  very  polite  and  sympathizing.  As  soon 
as  I  could,  I  asked  about  the  state  of  Sir  John  Lacy's  indebted- 


138  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

ness  to  them,  aiid  they  both,  with  great  show  of  indignation,  said 
they  held  no  obligations  of  his.  I  endeavoured  to  question  them, 
but  was  put  off  with  polite  lies.  I  infer  that  Swiss  paid  those 
I.  O.  U's.  If  you  put  the  question  to  Parchment — but  you  cannot 
do  that,  of  course. 

"  Dear  Father,  I  wish  you  would  please  disinherit  me.  I  do  not 
know  exactly  what  forms  are  necessary,  but  I  very  earnestly  de 
sire  to  vacate  my  inheritance  in  favour  of  Herbert.  I  do  not  want 
to  be  Lord  Morton.  I  don't  like  parsons  to  have  titles  anyhow, 
and  I  mean  to  be  a  Lord  Bishop  when  low  churchisin  gets  into  the 
majority.  This  matter  has  been  on  my  mind  for  several  years, 
but  I  have  never  spoken  to  you  about  it,  because  I  could  not  bear 
to  think  or  speak  of  the  possibility  of  outliving  you.  And  now, 
having  said  so  much,  I  will  stop. 

"  My  best  and  kindest  friend,  I  have  another  word  to  say.  Since 
Bet's  calamity  I  have  seen  a  great  deal  of  Miss  Tarn  worth,  and 
have  discovered  that  I  could  love  her  if  you  would  allow  me.  I 
have  for  some  years  admired  her  more  than  any  other  woman  in 
the  world  except  Lady  Morton;  but  I  thought  Swiss  loved  her,  and 
have  therefore  repressed  my  own  desires  for  his  sake.  Dear 
Swiss !  But  it  has  suddenly  occurred  to  me  that  I  was  mistaken, 
and  in  the  midst  of  much  confusion  of  thought  and  many  doubts, 
I  find  my  blood  coursing  through  my  veins  with  accelerated  rapid 
ity  whenever  I  think  of  Clare.  If  you  tell  me  I  may  have  her, 
there  will  be  nothing  to  do  but  get  her  to  have  me.  I  will  not 
think  about  her — that  is,  I  will  endeavour  to  keep  my  thoughts  in 
subjection — until  I  get  your  kind  permission.  This  is  my  highest 
idea  of  filial  obedience. 

"  There  has  been  a  great  deal  of  a  mild  sort  of  flirting  betwixt 
Miss  Tain  worth  and  me.  It  may  be  that  she  is  merely  keeping 
her  hand  in  with  me,  as  no  other  eligible  is  at  hand  just  now.  She 
certainly  flirted  desperately  with  Bars  ton,  but  he  is  so  cold-blooded 
a  fellow  that  I  could  not  get  jealous.  Perhaps  her  intent  was  to 
provoke  me  to  jealousy.  I  am  so  utterly  ignorant  of  feminine  wiles 
that  I  cannot  decide  the  point.  But  in  serious  matters,  such  as 
mission  work  among  my  poor  parishioners,  she  exhibits  so  much 
zeal  and  such  remarkable  sense  that  I  am  constrained  to  admire 
her  on  that  account.  She  would  make  a  most  capital  parsoness. 

"  This  reminds  me  that  I  want  a  school  house,  father.  I  do  not 
expect  to  make  a  very  heavy  draft  upon  you.  I  have  a  good  lot 
of  money  of  my  own.  But  this  Methodist  chap — I  beg  his  par- 


ANOTHER  LETTER.  139 

don,  he  is  a  Presbyterian  of  the  free  church,  I  believe — I  mean  the 
Reverend  Mr.  Macdower — is  getting  up  a  regular  mission  school. 
If  you  don't  build  me  a  school  house  he  will  get  ahead  of  me,  and 
by  securing  the  children,  will  make  the  next  generation  in  Laving- 
ton  dissenters !  He  is  one  of  the  best  fellows  in  the  world,  and  we 
are  excellent  friends  on  the  sly.  He  had  the  impudence  to  ask 
my  aid  in  establishing  his  school,  and  I  have  partly  agreed  to  join 
him  in  the  enterprise,  and  to  furnish  some  of  the  teachers  from  my 
flock !  The  school  could  thus  be  non-sectarian,  and  as  you  are  not 
troubled  by  any  allegiance  to  the  prayer  book,  you  can  contribute 
with  a  clear  conscience.  As  for  my  money,  I  cannot  decide  how 
much  I  can  spare  for  dissenters  until  I  know  how  my  matrimonial 
schemes  will  turn  out.  The  locality  we  have  in  view  is  rather 
south  of  Laviugton  than  in  the  village  proper,  and  the  pupils  we 
expect  are  the  children  who  work  in  the  mills.  There  are  two  or 
.  three  hundred  of  them,  and  they  belong  to  nobody  but  the  devil 
and  Macdower,  and  I  propose  to  enter  the  lists  against  him.  He 
has  a  dozen  godly  men  and  women  who  are  eager  to  begin  this 
mission  work,  and  I  can  probably  gather  as  many  more.  Miss 
Tamworth  specially  favours  the  scheme,  and  will  prove  a  most 
efficient  worker.  Two  or  three  hundred  pounds  will  build  the 
house,  and  Lord  Morton  owns  the  land  we  have  selected. 

"  Before  I  close,  dear  father,  I  would  just  mention  the  fact  that 
your  supply  of  Cabanas  at  the  Priory  is  nearly  exhausted.  There 
were  only  two  boxes  left  the  last  time  I  was  there,  and  there  is 
only  one  now — that  is  a  box  of  Colorados.  The  other  one  was 
dark.  I  suppose  you  will  be  better  satisfied  to  have  enough  to 
last  until  Christmas,  and  if  you  will  send  some,  say  a  thousand, 
to  me,  I  will  send  them  (or  part  of  them)  to  the  Priory.  It  will 
perhaps  be  more  convenient  to  keep  a  few  at  the  parsonage,  and 
I  would  suggest  one  box  of  Colorados  and  five  boxes  of  Oscuros. 
You  had  twenty-two  boxes  of  dark  cigars  at  Harwood  House  last 
May ;  1  counted  them.  I  mean  twenty-two  after  I  left.  Allen  is 
a  great  rascal,  and  may  have  'conveyed'  some  of  them  since. 
•  "  Your  loving  and  dutiful  sou, 

"JOHN  HAEWOOD. 
"  To  LOKD  MORTON, 

"  London." 


140  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 


CHAPTEE  XXIV. 

NELLIE. 

ME.  BAESTCXN"  returned  in  safety  from  his  Antarctic  explo 
rations.  He  claimed  the  discovery  of  an  entire  continent. 
He  called  it  "  Spencerland,"  in  honour  of  the  commander  of  the 
expedition,  who  was  too  intent  upon  his  scientific  investigations 
to  care  for  honours.  He  and  Barston  constructed  a  set  of  isother 
mal  charts,  an  extensive  map  of  certain  inaccessible  coasts,  which 
were  closely  beset  with  ice  floes  eleven  mouths  and  twenty-nine 
days  in  each  year,  and  brought  back  to  England  valuable  speci 
mens,  geological  and  vegetable — the  former  being  small  chips  from 
the  aforesaid  coast  and  the  latter  consisting  of  lichens  and  minute 
slips  of  the  saxifrage  genus.  They  also  presented  to  the  Eoyal 
Geographical  Society,  of  which  Mr.  Spencer  was  a  member,  elabo 
rate  treatises  upon  sea  currents,  tides  and  ice  drifts;  and  these 
papers  were  duly  read,  and  discussed,  and  printed,  and  filed  away 
in  the  archives  of  that  venerable  society.  It  is  probable  that  one 
man  in  every  million  of  her  Majesty's  subjects  read  every  word  of 
this  highly  entertaining  and  instructive  literature.  There  were 
many  adventures,  some  hair-breadth  escapes  from  ice  nips,  months 
of  heroic  endurance  while  "  frozen  in,"  all  of  which  might  furnish 
material  for  a  romance,  but  which  do  not  concern  the  present 
veracious  history.  Mr.  Spencer,  by  way  of  a  change,  then  sailed  for 
the  West  Indian  Archipelago  with  the  especial  object  of  investi 
gating  hurricanes,  cyclones  and  other  meteorological  phenomena 
of  that  turbulent  region.  As  neither  he  nor  his  vessel  has  been 
heard  from  since,  it  is  probable  that  he  is  not  yet  ready  to  report 
progress.  Mr.  Barstou  did  not  accompany  him  on  this  expedi 
tion,  and  as  the  reader  is  more  interested  in  him  than  in  Mr.  Spen 
cer,  the  latter  will,  with  this  brief  notice,  pass  out  of  the  present 
narrative. 

But  the  gentle  reader  has  not  yet  done  with  Mr.  SwUs.  He 
spent  several  weeks  in  London,  editing  the  aforementioned  scien 
tific  papers.  Then  he  went  to  Lavington.  It  was  in  the  early 
spring,  and  Lord  Morton  was  in  London.  Lady  Lacy  was  at  the 
Eed  Hall,  and  Swiss,  who  had  not  seen  her  for  nearly  four  years, 
was  full  of  eager  curiosity,  and  was  also  conscious  of  some  trepi 
dation  as  the  swift  train  approached  the  pretty  village.  The 


NELLIE.  141 

reader  has  already  discovered  that  his  whole  life  was  bound  up  in 
hers,  and  that  all  his  capacity  for  loving  was  employed  in  loving 
her.  The  rector  was  also  in  London,  but  Mr.  Barston  went  directly 
to  his  old  quarters  in  his  friend's  house.  It  was  rather  lonely,  but 
Swiss  was  a  philosopher.  The  morning  after  his  arrival  he  went 
out  on  an  exploring  expedition,  first  to  Kitty  Willis's  house,  but 
she  was  not  at  home.  "She  had  gone  to  the  Eed  Hall  in  Lady 
Lacy's  carriage,"  the  old  woman  informed  him.  Then  he  mounted 
Eoland  and  rode  to  the  Eipple  Farm. 

Tommy,  Widow  Dawson's  son  and  heir,  was  waiting  in  the  lane. 
The  gash  across  his  countenance  was  still  unhealed,  and  the 
white  teeth,  which  should  have  been  sunburnt  from  constant 
exposure,  still  glistened  within  the  gaping  chasm. 

"  Glad  to  see  you  back,  Master  Lacy,"  said  the  boy.  "  Mother 
heard  you  were  in  Lunnon,  and  we've  been  expecting  you  every 
day." 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Tommy,"  answered  Barston,  shaking 
his  hand.  "  How  is  your  mother  P 

"  Main  well,  sir.    Must  I  give  Eoland  a  bite  T 

"  Yes,  and  I  will  get  a  bite  too,  I  hope.  I  am  going  to  lunch 
on  bread  and  milk." 

"  Better  nor  that,  sir !"  replied  Tommy,  with  a  grin  that  threw 
the  upper  half  of  his  head  into  a  right  angle  with  the  lower  jaw. 

"  My  dear  dame,"  said  Swiss,  as  lie  entered  the  cottage, 
"Tommy  has  raised  my  expectations!  Are  curds  possible  in 
April  f ' 

"  Curds  are  possible  at  Eipple  whenever  you  come,  Master 
Lacy,"  said  the  widow.  "  Lawks !  I  can  make  'em  at  Christmas  ! 
August  is  the  nat'ral  mouth  for  'em,  but  I  can  make  August 
weather  by  the  kitchen  fire.  Will  you  have  it  now,  sir  f 

"  When  I  come  back,  please.  I  am  going  to  the  beach  for  a 
sea  dip.  Do  you  know  that  I  have  been  breaking  the  ice  nearly 
every  day  for  two  years  to  get  my  salt  water  bath  I  I  have  been 
to  a  country  where  August  is  midwinter,  and  where  midsummer 
does  not  melt  the  ice.  Towels  ?  thank  you.  Within  the  hour  I 
shall  be  ready  for  the  curd." 

"  I  wish  you  would  go  round  by  the  road,  Master  Lacy.  Some 
day  you'll  break  your  precious  neck  among  the  rocks." 

"  Never  fear,  dame.  I  am  very  cautious.  Don't  tell  anybody 
that  I  scramble  among  the  rocks.  That  which  is  easy  for  ine 
would  be  perilous  for  Tommy ." 


142  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

When  Mr.  Barston  returned  from  the  beach  the  luncheon  was 
ready.  He  always  insisted  upon  his  seat  at  the  kitchen  table, 
though  Mrs.  Dawson  had  a  "best  room,"  which  was  regularly 
aired  and  dusted  but  never  occupied. 

"  Mrs.  Dawson,"  said  Mr.  Barston,  "I  thought  of  going  to  the 
West  Indies  the  other  day,  and  one  thing  I  had  decided  to  do  was 
to  buy  a  cask  of  Porto  Eico  sugar.  I  have  an  idea  that  I  could 
select  the  best  on  the  island.  Out  of  this  cask  a  barrel  belongs 
to  you." 

"  Thank'ee,  Master  Lacy.     Does  sugar  grow  there  F 

"  Yes,  also  cyclones.  My  friend,  Mr.  Spencer,  has  sailed  in 
search  of  the  latter." 

"  Are  they  good  to  eat  F 

"  No,  they  are  an  unwholesome  sort  of  diet,  I  fancy.  I  have 
heard  nothing  about  Oakland  and  nothing  about  Lavington.  Can 
you  give  me  any  gossip  F 

"  No,  sir.  William  was  here  yesterday.  My  lady  has  engaged 
a  nurse  for  Miss  Ellen.  Did  you  know  the  little  baby  was  named 
Ellen  Barston  F 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  Swiss,  startled. 

"  Yes,  sir.  She  is  named  for  your  baby  sister.  Sir  John  had 
so  named  her,  though  she  was  not  christened  when  he  died." 

"  Who  is  the  nurse,  Mrs.  Dawson  F 

«  Kitty  Willis." 

"  Ah !    How  did  it  happen  F 

"  William  says  Lord  Morton  and  the  rector  recommended  her 
very  highly.  Master  Lacy,  I  have  found  out  something." 

"  Indeed !    What  is  it,  dame  F 

"  Do  you  remember  when  old  Dobbin  was  killed  ?  Well,  sir, 
William  says  you  bought  the  new  horse  and  not  Sir  John." 

"  Pooh,  dame,  it  was  all  the  same.  What  does  William  know 
about  it  F 

"  Sir  John  told  him,"  answered  Mrs.  Dawson,  severely.  "  You 
sent  Hawder's  boy  with  the  horse " 

"  And  the  jackass  told  Jack,  and  Jack  told  William.  What  a 
coil  about  nothing !"  replied  Swiss.  "  Tell  me  some  more  recent 
gossip." 


"  Don't  know  any  more,  sir.    Lord  Morton's  gamekeeper " 

"  Old  Blake  F 
"  No,  sir.    Young  Butler." 

"  By  the  three  kings  !"  said  Barston,  starting  up,  "  things  are 
growing  complicated !    What  were  you  about  to  say,  dame  F 


NELLIE.  143 

"  Nothing,  sir — only  Butler  is  an  ugly  brute  !  William  can't 
abear  him.  Kitty  is  a  pretty,  decent  girl,  and  ought  to  have  a 
better  spark  than  that  drunken  rascal." 

"  Softly,  dame.  Butler  is  rather  handsome.  Indeed,  if  he 
were  dressed  in  modern  costume  he  would  pass  for  a  thorough 
bred.  As  for  his  drunkenness,  that  must  be  a  mistake.  I  was 
two  months  and  more  aboard  ship  with  him  and  he  never  touched 
rum." 

"  Well,  sir,  he  touches  it  now.  I  don't  want  to  harm  him  if  he 
would  let  that  gal  alone.  He  goes  to  the  village  every  other  night 
to  court  her,  and  now  that  she  is  at  the  Eed  Hall  he  wilt  go  there. 
It  is  more  convenient  for  him.  He  lives  in  Blake's  cottage,  which 
is  near  the  Hall,  you  know." 

"  Tommy,  bring  Eoland,"  said  Mr.  Barston.  "  I  think  I  will 
ride  round  by  the  Priory  road  and  call  on  Mr.  Butler.  Dame,  the 
curd  was  faultless.  May  I  light  my  cigar  here  ?" 

"  Lawks  !  Master  Lacy." 

"That  means  yes.  Puff,  puff.  Good  bye,  dame.  Tommy,  you 
expect  a  shilling  ?" 

"  No,  sir !"  answered  Tommy,  mendaciously. 

"  Well,  shut  your  jaws !  Here  is  half  a  crown.  Ho !  Roland !" 
And  mounting  the  restless  horse  he  held  him  quiet  with  an  iron 
hand.  u  Dame,"  he  said,  "  perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  keep  all 
that  gossip  for  my  ears  alone  for  the  present.  There  is  some 
mystery  about  these  people.  Let  us  not  excite  their  suspicions. 
I  am  going  to  unravel  the  mystery  this  time,  by  the  three  kings ! 
Away,  Eoland !"  and  with  a  snort  and  a  mighty  bound  Eolaud 
darted  from  the  door,  while  Tommy  looked  on  with  admiring  eyes. 
Then,  as  the  horseman  disappeared  behind  a  little  clump  of  trees, 
the  boy  turned  his  gaze  upon  the  bright  coin  in  his  hand,  while 
the  upper  half  of  his  cranium  lifted  itself  two  or  three  inches. 

"'Ere's  the  'arfcrown,  mother,"  he  said,  regretfully 5  "he  allers 
says  a  shillin',  and  allers  gives  me.'arf  a  crown  or  a  florin.  iHit  it 
in  the  stockiu'.  Now  he's  come  they'll  chink  in  faster.  By  Christ 
mas  I'll  have  a  small  fortin !"  How  prone  is  humanity  to  forecast 
the  future ! 

As  Eoland  turned  into  the  high  road,  Barston  saw  a  landau 
that  had  passed  the  mouth  of  the  lane  a  few  minutes  earlier,  now 
half  a  mile  away.  Peeping  above  the  top,  which  was  thrown 
back,  he  saw  the  flutter  of  ribbons  in  the  jaunty  hat  of  the  occu 
pant.  Then  as  he  drew  nearer  he  recognized  the  horses  and  then 


144  TEE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

the  livery  on  the  broad  shoulders  of  Lady  Lacy's  coachman,  Wil 
liam.  With  beating  heart  he  shook  his  bridle,  turning  his  heel  to 
Eoland's  flank,  and  in  a  moment  he  was  beside  the  carriage,  peer 
ing  anxiously  in  the  face  of  Kitty  Willis.  William  checked  his 
horses. 

"  Hooray !"  he  shouted.    ttf  Welcome  home,  Master  Lacy !" 

"Thank  yon,  William.  How  is  my  lady ?  Well!  And  this  is 
Kitty  Willis — and — Nellie  Lacy,  by  the  three  kings!  Stand, 
Eoland !"  And  leaning  forward  he  held  out  his  arms  to  the  child, 
while  a  tempest  of  emotions  swept  over  his  face. 

The  child  gazed  into  his  gentle  eyes  with  steady  scrutiny  for  a 
moment,  and  then  holding  up  her  little  hands  was  caught  to  his 
breast,  while  her  rosy  face  was  hidden,  in  his  flowing  beard. 

"My  darling!  my  darling!"  muttered  the  strong  man  as  he 
drew  his  horse  apart.  "  Ket's  baby !  Jack's  baby  I  Oh,  Merci 
ful  !  My  baby  evermore !"  And  scarcely  conscious  of  his  own 
thoughts  or  purposes  he  spurred  Eoland  again,  and  galloped 
away  with  the  child  clinging  to  his  neck,  crowing  with  delight. 

Perhaps  the  story  thus  far  told  has  been  so  clumsily  related 
that  the  gentle  reader  has  failed  to  see  through  Lacy  Barston's 
soul-windows,  and  therefore  cannot  account  for  many  of  his  acts 
and  speeches.  To  the  author  he  looms  up  in  grand  proportions, 
and  the  steadfast  nobleness  of  his  character  shows  through  all  his 
whimsicalities.  Naturally  impulsive  and  passionate,  his  life  has 
been  one  long  practice  of  self-denial  and  self-restraint.  In  his 
early  youth  his  dying  father,  recognizing  the  inherent  force  of"  his 
character,  had  charged  him.  to  watch  over  his  kinsman,  John 
Lacy,  through  lifer  and  this  burden,  which  was  a  solemn  obliga 
tion  in  young  Barston's  mind,  had  doubtless  coloured  his  entire 
life.  And  now  that  death  had  relieved  him  from  this  charge,  he 
had  comfort  in  remembering  that  he  had  never  uttered  one  unkind 
word,  though  frequently  sorely  tried  by  his  restless  ward.  Some 
how  he  had  come  to  regard  Sir  John  as  the  representative  of  his 
own  father  and  mother,  and  therefore  entitled  to  whatever  he 
might  claim  of  him.  Otherwise  he  would  never  have  relinquished 
the  only  woman  who  had  ever  attracted  him.  And  God  had  been 
good  to  him.  in  tempering  the  quaint  relations  he  sustained  to  his 
cousin  with  a  brother's  love,  making  endurance  and  forbearance 
easy  duties.  He  had  seemed  to  step  into  his  father's  office,  and 
Jack  being  gone,  the  great  unselfish  love  he  had  cherished  for  him 
was  now  suddenly  transferred  to  the  infant  nestling  in  his  bosom. 


THE  GAMEKEEPER.  145 

"  Do  you  know  me,  baby  ?"  he  said  at  last,  pulling  up  his  horse. 

"No.    What  name?" 

"  Cousin  Lacy.    Can  you  say  '  Cousin  Lacy,'  Nellie  f 

"  Tousin  Lacy.  I  love  Tousin  Lacy  !"  and  she  parted  his  beard 
with  dimpled  fingers  and  kissed  him. 

And  so  the  child  passed  into  the  core  of  his  heart,  taking  her 
place  there  with  all  due  authority,  and  reigning  with  despotic 
sway  while  its  pulsations  continue.  She  is  there  to-day,  exacting, 
wilful  and  loving. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 
THE  GAMEKEEPER. 

WHEN  Barston  relinquished  Nellie  to  her  new  nurse  he 
turned  from  the  high  road,  and  passing  through  a  grassy 
lane  entered  the  broad  domain  of  Morton  Priory.  Half  a  mile 
from  the  highway  was  situated  the  gamekeeper's  cottage.  He 
had  no  definite  plan  beyond  seeing  the  gamekeeper,  and  deciding 
for  himself  as  to  Butler's  character  and  habits.  The  memory  of 
old  Willis  and  of  the  wistful  expression  of  his  face,  when  he 
entreated  him  to  watch  over  his  daughter,  was  the  most  promi 
nent  impression  upon  his  mind.  He  endeavoured  to  analyze  his 
feeling  of  repugnance,  which  was  always  uppermost  when  he 
thought  of  Butler,  but  he  could  not  make  up  a  reasonable  case. 
The  reports  he  had  heard  from  Mrs.  Dawson  he  took  cum  grano 
sails,  making  allowance  for  prejudice  and  for  possible  jealousy  on 
William's  part.  Kitty  was  attractive  enough,  and,  in  Barston's 
judgment,  far  too  good  for  any  man  in  a  subordinate  position ;  as 
for  allowing  her  to  throw  herself  away  upon  a  drunkard,  that  was 
not  to  be  thought  of.  There  was  also  an  unaccountable  suspicion 
in  his  mind  that  Kitty  was  hardly  good  enough  for  Butler,  whose 
rough  manners  had  always  seemed  to  Barston  to  be  assumed  for 
a  purpose.  While  he  was  still  busy  with  these  reflections,  he 
reached  the  stile  leading  to  the  cottage,  and  seated  upon  it  he 
saw  his  quondam  shipmate  watching  him  composedly  as  he 
approached. 

He  wore  a  gray  shooting  jacket  and  trousers,  his  nether  limbs 
being  covered  with  long  leathern  gaiters  buttoning  above  the  knee. 
A  felt  hat,  cocked  up  over  his  brow,  half  concealed  his  eyes. 

10 


146  THE  LAGT  DIAMONDS. 

As  lie  straightened  himself  with  indolent  grace,  there  was  in  his 
manner  a  consciousness  that  he  was  on  his  own  premises,  and 
there  was  nothing  servile  in  his  salute  when  Mr.  Barston  checked 
his  horse  at  the  stile.  Two  things  shot  through  the  mind  of  the 
visitor.  First :  that  Mr.  Butler  was  vastly  improved  in  appear 
ance  j  second,  that  he  was  on  guard. 

"  I  heard  that  you  were  here,''  said  Barston,  with  direct  honesty, 
"  and  I  rode  in  to  see  you." 

"  How  can  I  serve  you,  sir  P  replied  Butler,  quietly. 

"  By  telling  me  the  truth.    You  need  not  look  insulted " 

"  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  lying,  Mr.  Barston." 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  imply  that  you  were.  I  should  like  to  ask 
you  a  few  questions,  if  you  do  not  object." 

"  Proceed,  sir,"  said  Butler,  reseating  himself  upon  the  stile. 

"  I  scarcely  know  how,  by  the  three  kings !"  returned  Barston ; 
"  but  the  truth  is  always  safe.  I  have  heard — nay,  I  have  seen, 
that  there  is  such  an  understanding  betwixt  you  and  Kitty  Willis 
as  should  only  exist  betwixt  those  who  intend  marriage." 

"Well,  sir?" 

"I  have  reasons  for  what  I  say  about  this  matter.  When  her 
father  died  he  requested  me  to  protect  his  child  from  harm.  On 
that  account  alone  I  have  sought  you  to-day." 

"  You  mean  that  my  courtship  may  harm  her  P 

"  Possibly.  Or  rather,  that  your  marriage  with  her  might  harm 
her.  1  do  not  know.  Hang  it,  man !"  he  continued,  with  a  little 
outburst  of  temper,  "  why  are  you  so  infernally  glum  and  myste 
rious  ?  If  you  are  an  honest  man,  a  sober  man,  and  the  girl  likes 
you,  it  would  be  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  aid  rather  than  hinder 
you.  Who  are  you  P 

"Lord  Morton's  gamekeeper,"  said  the  other,  "passably  honest, 
perhaps.  Passably  sober — sometimes " 

"  W7ho  were  you  ?  There  is  the  true  difficulty  I  You  come  upon 
us  here  a  waif  from  the  ocean.  For  aught  I  know  to  the  contrary 
you  may  have  been  a  pirate.  Why  the deuce  can't  you  en 
lighten  me  enough  to  quiet  my  conscience  ?  Look  you !  We  have 
been  together  in  peril,  and  if  there  were  not  some  horrible  reason 
for  your  reticence,  there  would  have  been  confidence  betwixt  us. 
What  black  spot  is  in  your  past  that  you  should  be  constantly  on 
the  watch  against  friend  and  foe  P 

Butler  rose  slowly,  and  throwing  his  leg  over  the  stile  slid  dowi) 
into  the  lane. 


THE  GAMEKEEPER.  147 

"Waif,  drunkard,  possible  thief,  possible  pirate !"  he  said,  count 
ing  the  epithets  off  on  his  fingers.  "  Hadn't  you  better  add  *  possi 
ble  murderer,'  and  so  complete  the  catalogue  ?"  arid  he  dashed  his 
hat  upon  the  grass  and  faced  his  persecutor  with  pallid  counte 
nance,  on  which  there  was  no  sign  of  fear.  Then  Barston  saw  on 
his  forehead  a  long  purple  seam,  an  inch  above  his  eyes,  the  more 
noticeable  because  of  the  ashy  hue  of  the  rest  of  his  face.  Barston 
threw  his  bridle  on  Roland's  neck  and  dismounting  drew  near  his 
interlocutor,  his  soul  filled  with  tender  pity. 

"  I  have  wounded  you  sorely,"  he  said  gently,  "  and  I  am  very 
sorry.  Let  me  atone  for  my  fault  by  befriending  you.  If  you  are 
crushed  under  some  hideous  memory — for  so  my  instinct  teaches 
me — I  pray  you  let  me  comfort  you.  God  is  more  merciful  than 
we  think  Him.  Do  you  not  remember  that  He  allowed  me  to  avert 
an  impending  death  once " 

"Ay !"  answered  Butler ;  "and  I  also  know  that  I  owe  Him  no 
thanks  for  that !  The  peace  I  have  failed  to  find  on  earth  might 
have  been  mine  a  thousand  fathoms  dov/ii  under  the  sea!" 

"You  shock  me!"  said  Barston;  "such  dreadful  words  should 
never  issue  from  mortal  lips.  No  calamity  has  befallen  you  that 
is  not  common  to  man,  and  no  calamity,  is  incurable  while  life 
endures.  Will  you  allow  me  to  aid  you  ?" 

"I  require  no  man's  aid,"  said  the  other;  "  if  you  really  wish  to 
do  me  a  kindness,  let  me  alone.  As  for  the  young  woman,  it  is 
likely  enough  that  she  incurs  less  peril  under  my  protection  than 
she  would  under  charge  of  a  gay  young  gentleman  like  you." 

"You  are  not  speaking  your  true  sentiments,"  replied  Barston, 
with  dignity.  "  The  tokens  you  give  of  gentle  breeding  are  un 
mistakable.  I  implore  you  to  confide  in  a  man  of  your  own  ehiss, 
and  let  me  extricate  you  if  I  can  from  the  past,  and  assure  your 
future.  Mount  my  horse  and  ride  to  Oakland.  I  will  get  another 
in  the  village  and  follow  you." 

"  You  accused  me  of  drunkenness  but  now,"  said  Butler,  picking 
up  his  hat  and  reseating  himself  upon  the  stile.  "  Most  men  would 
say  you  were  either  drunk  or  mad  to  make  such  a  proposition  to 
me." 

"  Perhaps.    But  you  know  that  I  am  neither.    Will  3-011  come  f 

"A  thousand  times  no !"  said  Butler.  "  Is  it  not  possible  for  you 
to  leave  me  to  myself?" 

"  It  is  not  possible,"  answered  Barston,  gravely. 

"  Well  then,"  said  Butler,  with  a  defiant  air,  "  let  us  understand 


148  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

each  other.  There  can  be  no  quarrel  between  us,  first,  because 
you  have  saved  my  life;  and  second,  because  I  am  not  insensible 
of  your  kind  intentions.  I  will  say  nothing  about  your  conceit  as 
to  my  true  condition.  I  know  that  you  are  a  whimsical  gentle 
man,  and  you  may  take  up  some  new  conceit  to-inorrow.  But  I 
notify  you  that  I  will  thwart  you  in  every  way,  as  I  have  oppor 
tunity,  unless  you  consent  to  walk  apart  from  me.  It  may  be 
that  I  shall  apply  to  you  some  day  and  remind  you  of  your 
generous  offers.  In  the  meantime  be  on  your  guard.  I  am  on 
mine." 

"Pooh!"  said  Barston,  "the  contest  is  unequal.  I  have  no 
vulnerable  spots.  I  cannot  walk  apart  from  you  if  I  would.  My 
home  is  here,  and  this  girl's  welfare  was  put  under  my  charge.  I 
cannot  relinquish  it  until  I  know  more  of  you.  If  you  will  at 
least  quit  drink ." 

"  I  cannot.    One  must  sleep  sometimes." 

"  Bum  is  a  poor  soporific.  You  have  taken  to  it  since  we  met 
on  shipboard." 

"  Yes,"  said  Butler,  wincing  a  little. 

"  And  you  have  got  a  new  mark  since  we  parted.  Doubtless  it 
also  is  due  to  rum?" 

"  What  a  devil  you  carry  in  your  tongue,  Mr.  Barston,"  said 
Butler,  with  a  ghastly  attempt  at  a  smile.  "  You  are  very 
thoughtful  of  Kitty's  welfare.  Heaven  pity  the  unfortunate 
woman  you  may  chance  to  marry !" 

Barston  mounted  his  horse.  He  had  thrown  away  his  cigar 
when  he  met  Nellie,  and  he  proceeded  to  light  another  while  he 
pondered  the  last  speech  of  the  gamekeeper. 

"  That  strikes  me  as  a  very  sensible  observation,  Mr.  Butler," 
he  said  at  last.  "  The  truth  is,  matrimony  is  a  very  risky  business 
on  the  part  of  women.  Men  who  are  not  brutes  are  very  apt  to 
be  fools,  and  I  really  do  not  know  more  than  half  a  dozen  amongst 
my  acquaintances  who  are  fit  to  assume  so  grave  a  trust.  We 
shall  meet  again,  and  I  hope  you  will  be  in  a  better  mood.  It 
occurs  to  me  now,  as  we  are  about  to  part,  to  ask  you  if  you  have 
none  bound  to  you  by  ties  of  blood  who  might  suffer  in  seeing 
you  degraded — no  mother,  no  father " 

"  I  am  alone  in  the  world,"  said  Butler,  turning  his  back  upon 
him  as  he  crossed  the  stile.  "  My  mother  died  before  I  was  old 
enough  to  know  her,  and  all  I  remember  of  my  father  is  a  scowling 
face  and  bitter  tongue.  My  chief  solace  now  is  in  cursing  his 
memory !" 


SWISS  IN  TROUBLE.  149 

Barston  watched  his  retreating  form  until  it  disappeared  in,  the 
cottage  door,  and  then  rode  soberly  down  the  lane. 

"  The  fates  have  dealt  hardly  with  him,"  he  thought,  "  and  I 
suppose  the  mournful  tones  of  his  voice  awaken  my  sympathy. 
It  is  the  most  inscrutable  mystery  altogether.  I  am  not  sure  that 
I  came  off  victor  iu  yonder  encounter  of  wits.  The  fellow  is 
plucky  as  a  dog !  He  got  that  crack  on  the  crown  in  some  devil's 
business  or  he  would  not  have  winced  so  when  I  referred  to  it. 
He  boldly  challenges  me  to  the  contest,  and  I  purpose  to  begin 
my  part  by  taking  Kitty  to  Oakland.  If  I  get  her  there  he  will 
have  to  do  his  courting  under  difficulties.  I  will  offer  her  the 
place  of  housekeeper,  at  high  wages,  to-morrow." 

Mr.  Butler  unlocked  a  cupboard,  took  out  a  bottle  and  a  glass, 
and  seating  himself  near  the  window  poured  out  half  a  tumbler 
of  brandy.  As  he  sipped  it  he  watched  the  horseman  riding  down 
the  lane. 

"  Mr.  Barstou  is  a  troublesome  customer,"  he  thought  j  "he  has 
inherited  his  mother's  sharp  wit  and  his  father's  invincible  per 
tinacity.  What  a  handsome  fellow  he  is !  It  he  were  not  so  un 
deniably  thoroughbred  I  vow  I  should  be  jealous  about  Kitty ! 
He  will  be  apt  to  begin  operations  against  me  without  delay,  and 
I  must  get  the  start  of  him  somehow.  I  must  ask  Kitty.  She 
will  know  if  he  has  any  weak  points.  Something  must  be  done 
to  get  him  out  of  the  neighbourhood.  Is  there  no  way  to  get  this 
devil's  brand  from  my  face  f  and  he  ground  his  teeth  in  an  agony 
of  rage.  Then  he  emptied  his  glass,  and  taking  a  double  barrelled 
gun  from  the  corner,  he  left  the  cottage,  and  crossing  the  meadow, 
struck  through  the  woods  in  the  direction  of  the  Bed  i  1  all. 


OHAPTEE    XXVI. 

Swiss  IN  TROUBLE. 

IADY  LACY'S  carriage  conveyed  her,  with  Miss  Tamworth, 
-^  Nellie  and  her  nurse,  to  Morton  Priory  the  day  after  the 
foregoing  occurrences.  There  had  been  an  amicable  contest  be 
tween  her  and  her  parents  ever  since  the  death  of  Sir  John,  touch 
ing  her  continued  residence  at  the  Red  Hall.  The  elders  were 
more  eager  to  have  their  daughter  resume  her  old  place  in  her 


150  TEE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

old  home,  because  of  the  incumbrance  in  little  Nellie,  who  was  the 
tyrannical  mistress  of  both  houses,  but  Ret  had  steadfastly  de 
clined  "  for  the  present,"  and  had  always  cogent  arguments  to 
present  against  the  arrangement,  drawn  from  the  requirements  of 
the  estate,  which  she  was  bound  to  administer  in  Nellie's  in 
terests.  Another  plea  was  furnished  by  Miss  Tamworth's  con 
stant  residence  at  the  Red  Hall  as  Lady  Lacy's  guest.  She  had 
never  left  her  since  Nellie's  birth,  and  the  thought  of  separation 
did  not  enter  the  mind  of  either. 

The  park  was  putting  on  its  spring  attire  and  was  truly  beau 
tiful.  The  evergreens,  standing  in  clumps  near  the  house,  had 
gotten  rid  of  the  rust  of  winter,  and  the  deciduous  trees,  with 
their  young,  green  leaves,  were  bursting  into  new  life  under  the 
delightful  sun  of  Devon.  The  conservatory  runs  along  the 
southern  side  of  the  house,  and  on  this  bright  morning  the  double 
sashes  were  open  and  the  wealth  of  fragrant  bloom  was  within 
reach  of  the  lawn.  Lady  Lacy  had  never  yielded  her  proprietor 
ship  of  the  conservatory,  and  half  an  hour  after  their  arrival  she 
opened  the  glass  door  in  the  drawing-room  communicating  with 
the  conservatory  and  entered  her  ancient  domain.  She  had  taken 
but  a  few  steps  when  she  was  startled  by  the  sound  of  voices.  The 
speakers  were  hidden  by  the  dense  foliage  of  two  huge  lemon 
trees,  and  as  she  retreated  she  heard  a  sentence  or  two. 

"  You  must  come  and  live  at  Oakland,  Kitty " 

"  Impossible,  Mr.  Barston." 

"  But  you  must.  Everything  depends  upon  it.  Are  you  so  mad 
as  to  wreck  your  own  happiness " 

Lady  Lacy  passed  back  into  the  drawing-room  and  closed  the 
door,  hearing  no  more  of  this  interesting  colloquy.  Miss  Tarn- 
worth  was  at  the  piano,  and  Lady  Morton  standing  near  her. 
While  Ret  was  still  stunned  and  trying  to  collect  her  thoughts, 
the  glass  door  opened  behind  her  and  Mr.  Barston  entered  with 
Nellie  in  his  arms.  Kitty,  with  flushed  face,  followed,  and  Ret 
was  lost  in  admiration  of  the  cool  effrontery  of  our  friend  Swiss, 
who  approached  her  with  his  hand  extended. 

"  I  rejoice  to  see  you  looking  so  well,"  he  said,  glancing  at  her 
black  dress.  u  My  dear  little  Nellie  met  me  on  arrival  and  bade 
me  come  in  this  way.  I  hope  I  have  not  startled  you !"  he  added 
anxiously,  noticing  her  perplexed  look. 

"  Yes  you  have,  a  little.     How  long  have  you  been  here  ?" 

"  I  arrived  but  uo\v.     My  lady,  I  feel  that  I  am  indeed  at  home 


SWISS  IN  TROUBLE.  151 

once  more  when  I  receive  your  welcome.  Ah !  Miss  Tarn  worth, 
you  look  as  charmingly  innocent  as  if  you  had  no  broken  hearts 
to  answer  for.  I  have  been  in  England  but  a  few  weeks  and  have 
met  half  a  dozen  victims  of  your  flirting  powers  already !  Nellie  ! 
have  you  not  told  your  mamma  that  you  met  your  cousin  Lacy 
yesterday  $" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  Miss  Tamworth.  "  Nellie  gave  us  glow 
ing  accounts  of  her  ride  yesterday.  As  you  have  made  a  conquest 
there  so  expeditiously,  I  think  you  must  have  been  learning  some 
flirting  lessons  among  the  Esquimaux  damsels." 

"  I  have  not  been  among  them,"  replied  Barston,  "  and  I  have 
not  offered  l  delicate  attentions '  to  any  lady  since  I  saw  you  last. 
The  renown  you  have  acquired  as  a  heart-breaker  has  seemed 
like  a  constant  challenge  to  me,  and  so  I  come  to  prove  your 
prowess." 

u  Indeed,  you  have  come  in  vain,"  said  Clare,  lightly.  "  I  shall 
not  waste  any  efforts  upon  you.  I  happen  to  know  that  you  are 
sworn  to  celibacy." 

"  I?"  said  Swiss,  in  surprise;  "  you  are  greatly  mistaken.  For 
thirty  dreary  months  I  have  lived  among  rude  men.  No  woman's 
presence  to  humanize,  no  woman's  voice  to  soothe.  In  the  midst 
of  appalling  horrors,  day  after  day,  when  all  the  days  were  nights, 
I  have  watched  the  gorgeous  constellations  of  the  Southern  Pole, 
and  longed  for  the  returning  sun.  The  ice,  spread  around  me  in 
almost  limitless  floes,  or  standing  in  cold  splendour,  huge  bergs, 
glittering  in  the  moonlight,  was  not  more  desolate  than  my  lot, 
deprived  of  gentle  woman's  influence  and  sympathy.  And  in  that 
long  imprisonment  there  was  no  waking  hour  when  the  ladies,  in 
whose  presence  I  stand  to-day,  were  not  present  in  rny  thoughts. 
And  I  think  I  may  truthfully  add,  there  was  no  hour  of  sleep 
when  they  failed  to  gild  my  dreams." 

"  If  it  were  not  for  the  air  of  earnestness  you  put  on,"  said  Miss 
Tamworth,  "  I  would  compliment  you  on  that  pretty  speech.  Still 
I  am  sure  you  have  professed  to  be  proof  against  feminine  wiles. 
The  rector  has  quoted  you " 

"  Ah !"  said  Barston,  "  Parson  Johnny  has  misunderstood  me, 

J  perhaps.    He  has  not  been  wretch  enough  to  accuse  me  of " 

"  Nothing  worse  than  confirmed  bachelorhood.  But  that  freez 
ing  account  you  have  just  given  of  your  late  surroundings  has 
awakened  all  my  curiosity.  I  shall  require  a  full  chronicle  of 
your  adventures." 


152  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Mr.  Barston  has  kindly  come  to  entertain  us  to-day,"  said 
Lady  Morton.  "  John  and  his  father  will  be  here  to  dinner." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Barston,  "  I  left  them  at  the  Eectory.  Parson 
Johnny  will  drive  out  here  to  luncheon.  Lord  Morton  and  he 
arrived  in  the  early  train,  and  I  had  the  pleasure  of  taking  break 
fast  with  them.  I  was  too  impatient  to  wait  for  them.  Nellie, 
I  will  take  you  on  Eoland's  back  again  after  luncheon ;"  and  he 
gave  the  child  to  Kitty,  who  retired  with  her  through  the  conser 
vatory. 

Lord  Morton  and  the  rector  arrived  shortly  after  and  were  re 
ceived  with  great  empressement  by  the  ladies.  Sundry  parcels, 
brought  down  from  London,  containing  articles  of  feminine  adorn 
ment,  no  doubt,  attracted  the  ladies  on  the  instant,  and  following 
the  servant  who  bore  them  to  some  interior  chamber,  these  charm 
ing  women  gloated  over  ducks  of  bonnets  until  luncheon  was  an 
nounced,  when  they  gloated  over  cold  beef  and  salad. 

a  Do  you  return  to  the  Eed  Hall  before  dinner  f  said  Mr.  Bars- 
ton,  addressing  Lady  Lacy. 

"  Yes.  The  carriage  is  ordered  at  two  o'clock.  Nellie  must  be 
at  home  before  dark." 

"  May  I  take  her,  then,  on  Roland  ?  There  are  some  law  papers 
which  Mr.  Parchment  told  me  I  ought  to  see.  They  are  in  the 
safe " 

"  And  Mrs.  Frooine  has  the  key.  Certainly  you  may  take 
Nellie,  if  she  will  not  encumber  you." 

"  Then  I  will  go  at  once,  if  my  lady  will  excuse  me." 

"  On  condition  that  you  return  to  dine  and  sleep,"  answered 
Lady  Morton. 

"  Your  room  has  been  waiting  for  you,  Lacy,"  said  Lord  Morton, 
"  for  years,  and  you  have  never  occupied  it." 

"  Many  thanks  !  I  cannot  accept,  positively,  until  I  see  those 
legal  documents.  It  may  be  necessary  for  me  to  take  them  to 
London  at  once ;  but  it  will  be  a  great  disappointment  to  me  if 
it  should  so  happen.  Nellie,  my  darling,  get  your  wraps !" 

Miss  Tamworth  and  the  rector  followed  Barston,  leaving  Lord 
and  Lady  Morton  with  Eet  at  the  table. 

"  My  dear,"  said  Lord  Morton,  "  I  am  greatly  perplexed  about 
that  boy  and  I  require  the  aid  of  your  sharper  wit.  Sit  still,  Eet ! 
I  want  your  judgment,  also." 

"  Of  whom  are  you  speaking  ?"  said  his  wife. 

"  Of  Lacy  Barston.    I  had  to  wait  an  hour  for  John  this  morn- 


SWISS  IN  TROUBLE.  153 

ing,  as  he  had  a  vestrj  meeting,  and  while  he  was  absent,  Butler, 
the  gamekeeper,  called.  It  seems  his  visit  was  intended  for  the 
Parson,  but  he  said  he  greatly  preferred  telling  his  story  to  me. 
He  is  courting  your  nurse,  Bet." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  he  is  terribly  jealous  of  Mr.  Barston !  When  he  blurted 
out  this  statement  I  was  disposed  to  get  in  a  passion,  but  some 
thing  real  about  the  fellow's  appearance  kept  me  cool.  He  says 
Barston  is  pursuing  the  girl  constantly.  Did  she  drive  on  the 
Exeter  road  yesterday,  Eet  V 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Butler  says  Barston  waylaid  her  yesterday,  and  also  that  he 
went  to  Lavington  this  morning  specially  to  see  her.  Was  she 
there  this  morning  ?" 

«  Yes,  sir." 

"  Then  he  saw  her,  no  doubt.  As  John  and  I  walked  down 
from  the  station  we  met  him,  and  he  said  he  had  just  seen  your 
carriage.  I  cannot  tell  what  to  think.  I  did  not  ask  John,  but 
have  been  brooding  over  the  matter  all  the  morning.  The  girl  is 
the  daughter  of  an  actor,  who  died  here  a  few  years  ago,  and  has 
some  smattering  of  education.  But  Barston  could  hardly  think 
seriously  of  marrying  so  far  beneath  his  station !  There  is  no 
accounting  for  infatuation,  however.  The  whole  story  is  compli 
cated.  Butler  says  Barston  offered  Kitty  any  wages  she  would 
demand  if  she  would  quit  your  service  and  enter  his !  It  will  re 
quire  something  like  an  earthquake  to  shake  my  confidence  in 
Lacy  Barston's  integrity.  But  I  am  thoroughly  annoyed  and  per 
plexed.  Enlighten  me,  wife !" 

"  Come,  Eet  1"  said  Miss  Tamworth  from  the  door.  "  It  is  going 
to  rain.  I  ventured  to  order  the  carriage  at  once." 

They  rose  from  the  table,  and  as  Ket  arrayed  herself  in  bonnet 
and  wrappings  her  mother  stood  apart,  meditating.  Lord  Morton 
waited  anxiously  for  her  reply,  which  came  at  last. 

"  Ask  John !  Tell  him  all  about  it.  I  feel  certain  that  he  will 
be  able  to  explain  everything.  Don't  you  think  so,  Bet  ?" 

"  Alas!  no.  Good  bye,  Mother,  Father !"  and  as  they  kissed  her 
they  noticed  the  tears  in  her  gentle  eyes. 


154  TEE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

CHAPTER    XXVII. 

Swiss  EXPLAINS. 

AT  the  Eed  Hall  the  Keep,  which  was  the  nucleus  of  the  sys 
tem  of  buildings  that  made  up  the  residence,  was  a  huge 
square  tower,  rising  two  stories  above  its  surroundings.  The 
ground  floor  was  the  dining  room,  and  the  next  floor  was  Sir 
Kanald's  room.  This  had  been  somewhat  modernized  by  Sir 
John,  and  a  stone  portico  added  to  the  Keep,  giving  entrance  to 
the  dining  room  and  also  to  a  stairway  leading  directly  to  the 
library,  as  this  ancient  chamber  was  now  called.  This  had 
gradually  grown  to  be  the  main  entrance,  and  when  Lady  Lacy 
arrived,  just  in  advance  of  the  shower,  she  ascended  at  once  to  the 
library,  where  she  found  Mr.  Barston  seated  at  the  table  and  por 
ing  over  musty  looking  deeds  and  leases.  He  rose  at  her  entrance 
and  placed  a  chair  for  her,  and  after  some  allusion  to  their  good 
fortune  in  escaping  the  rain,  which  was  now  falling,  he  resumed 
his  study  of  the  papers  while  she  sat  quietly  by. 

"  Cousin  Bet,"  he  said  at  last,  "  if  you  will  allow  me  to  claim 
kindred,  I  find  enough  in  these  papers  to  make  it  necessary  for 
me  to  return  to  London.  There  is  a  flaw  in  your  title  that  must 
be  mended." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,"  she  answered. 

"  It  is  easily  remedied,"  said  Barston,  placing  the  deeds  in  his 
pocket.  "  You  will  entrust  me  with  the  papers  f 

"  Certainly.    What  is  the  nature  of  the  flaw  f 

"  The  death  of  Elbert  Lacy,  of  which  there  is  no  doubt,  has 
never  been  legally  proven.  The  inheritance  of  the  Lacy  estate  is 
really  in  Nellie,  in  equity,  and  it  could  doubtless  be  established 
by  Chancery  proceedings.  I  expect  to  arrange  it  less  expen 
sively." 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  mentioned  the  matter,  as  I  have  wished 
to  consult  you  about  it  since — for  some  time.  Pray,  whose  inter 
ests  conflict  with  Nellie's  ?" 

"None.  That  is,  without  some  slight  rectification  the  lauds 
might  pass  to — to — another,  who  has  no  sort  of  right  to  them. 
My  legal  knowledge  is  so  superficial  that  I  wish  to  consult 
Parchment." 

"  And  who  is  that  other  ?"  persisted  Eet. 


SWISS  EXPLAINS.  155 

"  Oh,  no  matter.  You  see  there  was  a  will  three  generations 
back,  and  there  has  been  no  will  since.  Lord  Morton  would 
probably  know  about  it.  My  father  was  Jack's  guardian;"  ho 
winced  as  he  uttered  the  name,  and  his  voice  faltered  a  little,  but 
he  went  on,  "  and  when  he  died  he  gave  me  some  general  direc 
tions,  which  I  have  tried  to  follow ." 

"  I  see  I  must  speak  plainly,  Mr.  Barston.  You  are  the  heir- 
at-law " 

"  Not  I  P  replied  Swiss  stoutly.  "  What  an  absurdity !  Who 
has  put  such  a  wise  notion  into  your  head  P 

"  No  one.  I  have  read  all  those  papers  and  some  others.  Mr. 
Barstou,"  she  continued,  earnestly,  "  I  owe  you  a  great  deal  of 
mouey  and  I  am  going  to  pay  it !" 

"  What  astounding  bosh  you  are  talking !"  said  Swiss,  rising 
and  approaching  her. 

"  I  am  talking  sound  sense,"  she  replied,  firmly,  "  and  you  know 
I  am  right.  I  owe  you  ten  thousand  pounds,  which  you  paid  to 
Mr.  Bottomry,  and  some  more — I  don't  know  how  much,  but  you 
will  tell  'me — that  you  paid  Mr.  DeVcre,  and  I  am  not  going  to 
allow  you  to  deprive  yourself  of  your  legal  rights  to  these  lauds, 
sir !  They  are  yours,  under  your  grandfather's  will,  not  Nellie's !" 

"Now,  by  the  three  kings  of  Cologne!"  said  Barston,  stamping 
his  foot,  "  see  what  comes  of  a  woman's  dabbling  in  law  matters. 
I  was  inaccurate  just  now  when  I  said  my  knowledge  was  super 
ficial.  I  know  enough  law  to  be  certain  that  I  have  no  rights 
here." 

"  Very  well,  sir.  Waiving  that  point  for  the  present,  will  you 
please  explain  about  Mr.  Bottomry  and  Mr.  DeVere  V1 

"  Explain  !"  stammered  Swiss.  "  Certainly — that  is — there  is 
nothing  to  explain.  Seriously,  madame,  you  have  no  right  to 
make  ducks  and  drakes  of  Nellie's  inheritance." 

"  Did  you  pay  any  moneys  to  those  gentlemen  in  behalf  of  my 
husband  f  said  Itet,  with  deliberation. 

"  Well,  really,  this  is  very  irregular,  and  I  may  add  very  un 
comfortable,"  said  Barston.  "I  may  have  had  some  transactions 
with  the  gentlemen  you  name,  but  I  cannot  be  expected  to  re 
member  all  the  little  details." 

"Did  you  pay  Mr.  Bottomry  ten  thousand  pounds?" 

"  Perhaps  ;  but  it  was  not  Nellie's  money,  and  allow  me  to  say 
it  was  not  yours,  that  Mr.  Bottomry  claimed.  According  to  your 
own  wild  inference  it  was  my  own. debt  1  paid,  as  Mr.  Bottomry 
held  a  lien  upon  the  Lacy  lands." 


156  THE  LAGY  DIAMONDS. 

11 1  must  pay  that  money,  sir." 

"  Cousin  Bet,  listen  to  me  a  few  moments,"  said  he,  with  calm 
desperation.  "  You  are  young  and  may  marry  again." 

"  Never !  never !    You  are  cruel  to  say  so !" 

"  Ob,  forgive  me  if  I  pain  you.  I  would  gladly  die  to  shield 
you  from  pain.  And  now  I  make  all  my  explanations  at  once : 
It  was  my  right  to  pay  Jack's  debts,  for  I  loved  him.  Judge  how 
I  loved  him  when  I  yielded  you  to  him  !  You  !  you  whom  I  have 
loved  all  my  life !  Ah !  Eet,  do  not  answer  me,  but  listen.  Let 
ine  spend  my  life  in  comforting  yours  !" 

"  Oh,  how  cruel !''  she  broke  in,  passionately,  as  she  rose  from 
her  chair.  "  You  who  have  baen  so  kind  and  good  until  to-day! 
Who  would  have  thought  that  you  could  wound  me  so  deeply  !" 

"  If  loving  you  with  every  pulse  of  my  heart " 

"  You  insult  me,  sir !"  she  answered,  her  eyes  flashing.  "  How 
can  you,  who  have  been  a  noble  gentleman  hitherto,  persecute  me 
thus  shamefully  F 

Barston  looked  steadily  at  her  beautiful  face  with  an  astonish 
ment  that  would  have  been  comical  had  it  not  been  mixed  with 
dire  distress. 

"  Will  you  please " 

"  There  is  nothing  to  explain  which  you  do  not  already  know, 
sir,"  said  Eet,  moving  to  the  door.  "  Oh,  Mr.  Barston,  I  should 
be  filled  with  indignation  if  I  did  not  pity  you !"  and  she  swept 
out  of  the  room.  In  a  moment  she  burst  in  again,  and  running 
up  to  where  he  stood,  stunned  and  silent,  she  said,  "  the  memory 
of  your  friend  and  kinsman  should  have  sheltered  me,  sir,  and 
saved  me  from  this  pain,  and  you  from  such  baseness !"  He 
looked  stupidly  at  her,  without  reply,  wondering  if  she  had  gone 
mad.  "  A  poor  defenceless  girl !  Oh,  Mr.  Barston !  I  almost 
hate  you !"  and  she  bounced  out  like  a  shot,  and  this  time  did  not 
return. 

Eoland  was  standing  under  a  ruined  arch  near  the  portico, 
sheltered  from  the  April  down-pour.  His  master  pulled  his  hat 
over  his  brow,  buttoned  his  coat,  and  while  the  parting  words  of 
Lady  Lacy  were  still  ringing  in  his  ears,  he  mounted  and  rode 
away  from  the  Eed  Hall,  never  heeding  the  storm  that  swept  over 
the  earth,  so  engrossed  was  he  with  the  storm  of  passion,  dismay, 
remorse  and  sorrow  that  tortured  his  own  bosom. 

The  arch  was  the  remnants  of  an  old  salty  port,  and  was  un 
doubtedly  a  part  of  the  ancient  outer  wall  of  Lacy  Keep.  It  was 


A  MONOLOGUE— MASCULINE.  157 

built  of  massive  stones,  and  on  the  inner  side  adorned  with  gro 
tesque  carvings  of  saints  and  angels.  Besides  the  main  arch 
there  were  some  fragments  of  the  wall  still  standing,  and  the 
entire  ruin  had  been  carefully  preserved  through  later  generations 
of  the  Lacys,  and  was,  in  fact,  the  show  ruin  of  the  neighbourhood- 
It  was  overgrown  with  ivy,  and  there  were  sundry  hiding  places 
in  the  remains  of  the  wall.  Out  of  one  of  these,  near  the  arch, 
the  scarred  countenance  of  Mr.  Butler  peered,  overspread  with 
a  sardonic  grin,  and  affording  a  sharp  contrast  to  the  pious  ex 
pression  on  the  stone  faces  in  the  arch,  as  he  watched  the  horse 
man  galloping  away.  It  also  afforded  a  very  strong  contrast  to 
the  lovely  face  of  Lady  Lacy,  watching  him  from  her  chamber 
window. 


OHAPTEE     XXVIII. 
A  MONOLOGUE— MASCULINE. 

DEFENCELESS  girl!'"  said  Mr.  Barston,  as  Eoland 
sped  down  the  avenue ;  "  l  a  defenceless  girl,'  she  said. 
It  appears  to  me  that  she  made  a  very  respectable  defence.  By  the 
three  kings!  how  beautiful  she  looked,  while  her  eyes  were  blaz 
ing!  How  lovely,  when  they  were  drowned  in  tears!  So  she 
t  almost  hates  me !'  I  suppose  if  I  had  stayed  a  little  longer  the 
almost  would  have  grown  into  the  altogether.  '  Insulted !' 
'  wounded  !'  and  by  Lacy  Barston,  who  has  been  worshipping  her 
with  blind  idolatry  for  a  dozen  years.  By  Lacj7  Barston,  who 
would  bite  off  his  tongue  before  he  would  insult  a  woman. 
1  Cruel !'  and  I  have  a  reputation  for  such  a  degree  of  milk- 
soppishness  as  would  not  hurt  a  fly ! 

"  What  could  there  have  been  in  my  words  or  manner  that 
roused  such  a  devil  in  this  gentle  girl  f  I  only  told  her  that  I 
loved  her.  I  am  sure  I  should  have  endured  it  better  than  that 
if  the  proposition  were  reversed !  What  a  tigress  she  is — my 
darling !  She  has  rejected  me  point  blank !  Scouted  me  and 
my  offer  with  bitter  reproaches!  But  she  cannot  prevent  me 
loving  her,"  and  he  ground  his  teeth — "  and  I  intend  to  love  her 
while  I  live — and  afterwards,  please  Ileaven  1 

"  I  was  too  abrupt.     What  a  simpleton  I  was  to  blurt  out  a 


158  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

declaration  to  this  '  poor  defenceless  girl '  without  proper  warn 
ing  !  I  should  have  dangled  after  her  five  or  six  months,  made 
pretty  speeches  and  written  poetry !  Oh,  Eet !  I  thought  you 
had  more  sense.  Alas!  it  was  not  that.  She  dislikes  ine  per 
sonally,  and  she  was  outraged  because  I  did  not  respect  her 
widowhood.  She  would  have  been  better  pleased  if  I  had  gone 
about  helping  her  moan  over  Jack!  Why,  the  poor  boy  has 
been  nearly  three  years  buried,  and  she  spoke  of  him  with  the 
coolest  composure  !  But  I  have  not  seen  her  since  he  died,  and 
it  would  have  been  more  decorous  in  me  if  I  had  gone  over  the 
usual  condolences !  How  is  a  fellow  to  know  all  these  conven 
tionalisms  who  has  never  had  any  practice  in  the  humbug  ? 

"It  is  clear  that  the  difficulty  is  just  there !  For  she  said  some 
thing  about  l  the  memory  of  my  kinsman '  shielding  her  from  my 
outrageous  proposal. 

"I  may  as  well  face  the  situation.  Second  marriages  are  an 
abomination.  Suppose  I  had  married  Eet  and  lost  her — could  I 
ever  put  another  woman  in  her  place  ?  Never !  never !  My  soul 
recoils  with  unspeakable  horror  from  the  bare  thought!  Nay, 
the  thought  of  taking  any  other  woman  on  the  earth  gives  me  a 
regular  fit  of  the  horrors.  I  could  never  do  it !  And  no  doubt 
Eet — I  beg  her  pardon — Lady  Lacy,  cherishes  the  memory  of  her 
husband  as  I  should  cherish  her  memory  if  I  had  suffered  similar 
bereavement. 

"  And  so  I  have  been  led  thus  far  astray  by  my  blind  and  self 
ish  passion,  and  have  pained  and  shocked  my  beloved  with  bru 
tal  recklessness !  Yonder  reprobate  said,  '  Woe  to  the  woman  I 
married,'  and  he  was  right !  All  my  thoughts  of  comforting, 
defending,  protecting  her,  were  unlimited  bosh !  I  should  have 
made  her  life  miserable!  To  think  of  linking  such  sweetness  and 
beauty  to  my  rudeness  !  Ah!  if  Mr.  Butler  had  only  foreseen  to 
day's  experience,  he  need  not  have  threatened  ine  with  i  thwarting 
my  plans.'  I  must  leave  the  field  to  him.  But  I'll  warn  Parson 
Johnny,  by  the  three  kings ! 

"I  must  go  to  London  to-night  and  make  Parchment  fix  these 
title-deeds.  The  poor  little  defenceless  vixen  cannot  prevent  that 
at  least.  I  do  not  know  how  to  prove  Elbert  Lacy's  death,  but 
Parchment  can  manage  it.  What  admirable  wisdom  the  sharp 
little  woman  displayed  in  that  contest  about  the  Lacy  succession, 
and  she  has  gotten  all  her  knowledge  of  the  case  from  these  musty 
parchments.  But  Bottomry!  How  did  she  know  about  Bot- 


A   MONOLOGUE— MASCULINE.  159 

tomry  and  DeVere  !  It  is  pretty  certain  that  the  rascals  did  not 
tell.  Johnny  has  been  prating,  no  doubt. 

"  It  is  raining  like  blazes,  and  I  never  knew  it !  I  wonder  if  it 
was  raining  in  this  fashion  when  I  left  her  ladyship,  and  if  so,  I 
wonder  if  she  enjoyed  tiie  prospect  before  me — three  miles  to  the 
nearest  shelter.  I  will  not  believe  it ;  she  would  not  turn  a  dog 
out  in  such  a  storm  as  this. 

"Just  a  year  ago,  in  the  blaze  of  the  Polar  moonlight,  I  climbed 
the  high  peak  on  the  coast  of  Spencerland.  I  found  the  large 
saxifrage  in  the  sheltered  valley,  and  I  kissed  it — for  her !  and 
when  I  gained  the  summit  of  the  black  rock,  where  no  mortal 
foot  had  ever  stood  before,  I  carved  her  name  there  with  the  spike 
of  my  Alpenstock,  and  it  is  there  still,  {  RET,'  au(i  I  thought  I 
should  tell  her  of  it  some  day,  and  of  the  peril  I  foolishly  dared, 
merely  for  the  sake  of  putting  that  inscription  there  !  And  after 
wards,  on  my  solitary  tramp  over  floes  and  hummocks,  how  often 
I  turned  and  looked  back  at  the  bald  crag  that  bore  her  name. 

"  If  she  knew  it  she  would  go  there,  climb  where  I  climbed,  and 
chop  out  my  inscription  with  a  tomahawk ! 

"  I  wonder  if  any  other  fellow  has  been  prowling  about  here  or 
has  met  her  in  Essex  ?  By  the  three  kings !  that  would  be  a  jolly 
business.  She  don't  know  anybody  here  but  DeVere  and  Callahan. 
Is  it  possible  that  a  puppy  so  unmitigated  as  DeVere  could  catch 
her  fancy  ?  Pooh !  I'll  not  believe  it.  I  cannot  understand  why 
I  am  not  more  demoralized,  unless  it  is  because  she  said  '  Never ! 
never !'  when  I  suggested  matrimony.  If  she  had  a  liking  for 
any  other  man  she  is  the  soul  of  truth  and  would  have  said  so ; 
and  I  would  cut  his  throat !  It  is  not  that. 

"  One  of  two  things  must  needs  be  true.  I  have  cancelled  the 
possibilities  on  the  two  sides — all  but  these : 

"  First,  she  must  have  been  so  devoted  to  Jack  that  the  thought 
of  marrying  again  is  utterly  abhorrent  to  her.  Let  us  try  that 
equation !  Jack,  poor  boy,  was  not  the  sort  of  fellow  to  awaken 
an  undying  attachment.  He  was  handsome,  brave,  truthful,  indo 
lent,  and  selfish.  I  may  say  so  to  myself  alone,  for  I  loved  him. 
He  thought  he  was  madly  in  love,  but  he  wasn't.  Had  he  loved 
her  he  could  not  have  gotten  into  the  toils  of  those  shallow  knaves. 
Parson  Johnny  has  told  me  enough  to  satisfy  me  that  her  married 
life  was  not  happy.  How  did  she  come  to  marry  him  ?  Well,  he 
was  handsome,  impetuous,  was  endorsed  by  Lord  and  Lady  Mor 
ton,  and  Ret  was  fancy  free.  The  marriage  was  very  natural,  and 


160  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

the  subsequent  repentance  natural,  too.  I  dismiss  that  proposi 
tion,  therefore.  It  is  not  that. 

"  Second,  for  some  sufficient  reason  she  must  hate  me.  What 
have  I  done  or  said  ?  Could  she,  in  her  Harwood  pride,  resent  my 
interference  in  that  gambling  business  ?  No  doubt  Parson  Johnny 
has  told  her,  as  I  blabbed  very  freely  to  him;  otherwise  she 
could  not  have  known  about  Bottomry  and  DeVere.  When  she 
was  discussing  the  payment  of  that  money  her  eyes  flashed  like 
the  Cossack  spear-heads  when  Jack  and  I  rode  down  upon  them  ! 
Oh,  what  eyes!  and  she  keeps  a  lot  of  tears  just  under  the  lids  to 
drown  a  fellow  after  she  has  scorched  him  pretty  nearly  to  death, 
and  beguiled  him.  into  a  love  declaration !  But  she  is  too  sensible 
to  hate  me  for  that,  and  if  I  had  allowed  her  to  squander  all  that 
money  in  repayment  the  resentment  would  have  died  for  lack  of 
fuel.  I  dismiss  that  proposition  also.  It  is  not  that. 

"  I  wonder  if  I  am  conceited  enough  to  think  myself  invincible  ? 
It  was  not  conceit  that  prompted  my  sudden  avowal  just  now. 
She  looked  so  charming,  and  I  have  waited  so  long !  It  has  been 
almost  four  years  since  I  saw  her,  and  I  have  been  courting  her 
diligently,  in  my  thoughts,  which  no  mortal  could  know,  and  I 
was  foolish  enough  to  think  she  might  know  with  her  quick  wit. 
And  there  is  that  darling  baby !  I  must  have  Nellie  !  She  said 
this  morning,  "Oo  may  kiss  me,  for  I  love  oo;  but  your  beard 
'cratches  me  !"  I  did  kiss  her,  and  Ket  will  kiss  her,  not  knowing 
that  she  is  so  near  to  kissing  me.  It  is  a  very  unsatisfactory  sort 
of  proxy  business,  but  it  is  better  than  none. 

"  My  lady,  do  you  think  you  have  done  with  me  f '  and  here  he 
spoke  through  his  set  teeth.  "  If  you  do,  you  are  greatly  mis 
taken  !  But  I  must  wait.  If  I  had  been  allowed  to  select  the 
circumstances  of  our  late  encounter  I  could  not  have  arranged 
matters  better.  I  leave  her  with  a  very  plain  declaration  of  love. 
She  dismisses  me  with  a  very  clear  declaration  of  hostilities.  I  have 
these  deeds,  and  I  intend  to  fix  them  so  that  she  cannot  discover 
anything  more  than  she  has  already  guessed  about  the  Lacy  in 
heritance.  If  she  insists  upon  paying  that  Bottomry  money  she 
may  do  it.  It  is  all  one.  Nellie  will  get  it  anyhow.  Since  I  sailed 
with  Spencer  my  income  has  accumulated,  and  I  am  no  poorer  to 
day  for  that  outlay  ;  and  then  she  will  remember  that  interview, 
and  when  she  reflects  upon  her  cruel  words  she  will  repent;  and 
if  she  begins  to  repent  she  will  be  vanquished !  But  I'll  not  have 
her  that  way,  either,  by  the  three  kings !  She  shall  love  me ! 


ANOTHER  MONOLOGUE— FEMININE.  161 

"  And  so  I'll  be  off  again  to  salt  water.  One  day  with  Parch 
ment,  that  is  to-morrow,  aud  then  I'll  take  the  first  ship  I  can  find. 
Where  shall  I  go  ?" 

"Porto  Rico  first.  I  must  get  some  sugar.  I  have  a  half 
promise  to  Mrs.  Dawson.  Besides  I  want  some  for  myself.  These 
grocery  rascals  sophisticate  their  wares,  and  it  will  be  jolly  fun  to 
watch  all  the  manipulations,  and  to  be  certain  of  the  purity  of  one 
hogshead  at  least.  Then  I  shall  go  to  Cuba.  I  want  cigars,  and 
I  intend  to  see  them  made  with  my  own  eyes.  I'll  get  a  lot  for 
Parson  Johnny,  too. 

"  There  is  Laviugtou,  Eoland ;  you  sleek  old  villain,  I  am  going 
to  give  you  a  long  rest.  I  have  three  or  four  hours  before  train 
time  for  a  bath,  a  dry  suit,  a  letter  to  Parson  Johnny  and  a 
smoke!  Ah,  Eet,  my  love!  The  prospect  of  leaving  thee  is 
appalling !  But  when  I  see  thee  again  I  shall  leave  thee  no  more, 
and  I  leave  thee  now  only  to  be  more  sure  of  thee  when  I  return." 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

ANOTHER  MONOLOGUE— FEMININE. 

WHEN  Lady  Lacy  parted  from  Swiss  so  abruptly  she  ran 
into  her  chamber  and  locked  the  door.  She  threw  her  hat 
and  shawl  aside,  and  as  she  passed  the  window  she  saw  Barston 
leading  Roland  from  under  the  arch.  She  was  a  little  shocked,  as 
it  was  no  part  of  her  intention  to  send  him  away  in  the  rain,  and 
while  she  tried  to  think  of  a  pretext  for  detaining  him,  he  twisted 
his  hand  in  Roland's  mane  and  vaulted  into  the  saddle.  He 
passed  her  window  like  a  flash,  giving  her  a  glimpse  of  his  grave 
face  as  she  drew  back  behind  the  curtain.  It  struck  her  suddenly 
that  he  was  handsome.  Then  she  saw  the  mocking  face  of  Mr. 
Butler  peeping  out  of  the  dripping  ivy,  aud  it  occurred  to  her  that 
lie  was  hideous.  Then,  as  the  tramp  of  the  galloping  horse  died 
away,  she  sat  down  aud  cried. 

Of  course ! 

You  know  how  it  is,  reader.  It  makes  no  difference  whether 
you  are  gentle  or  not. 

"It  is  perfectly  outrageous!"  she  began,  clenching  her  little 
hands  until  the  nails  imprinted  themselves  upon  her  palms.  "  To 

11 


162  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

think  that  I,  of  all  the  women  in  the  world,  should  have  been  sub 
jected  to  such  an  affront !  Oh,  why  did  I  not  scratch  his  big  eyes 
out !  How  dared  he  do  it !"  and  she  sprang  from  her  seat  and 
began  to  stride  about  the  room.  "  I  had  almost  forgotten  about 
his  villainy  when  he  began  to  talk  about  loving  me.  Me!"  here 
she  stamped  viciously.  "  And  it  has  only  been  a  few  hours  since 
I  heard  him  making  love  to  that  brazen  minx,  poor  Kitty !  No 
doubt  he  has  been  persecuting  her  with  the  voice  of  an  angel  and 
the  heart  of  a  fiend !  Oh,  how  can  he  do  it,  the  hypocrite  ?  I 
cannot  bear  to  think  of  it !  What  does  that  ugly  wretch  look  so 
satisfied  for?  It  is  his  work,  telling  his  horrid  lies  about  gentle 
men!  Ah,  me!  I  heard  him  myself!  Oh,  Lacy  Barston,  I  have 
no  faith  in  mortal  man!  But  that's  a  story!  My  Father  and 
Johnny  are  true  as  steel !  And  Allen  and  Herbert !  And  I  have 
been  thinking  these  years  that  Lacy  Barston  was  all  that  was 
noble  and  good !  Ah !  the  deceitful  wretch !  to  dare  to  talk  to 
me  of  marriage ! 

"If  it  had  been  possible  for  me  ever  to  think  of  such  a  thing  I 
almost  believe  I  could  have  learned  to  like  this  false  villain !  Oh, 
how  thankful  I  ought  to  be  that  he  was  unmasked  so  thoroughly! 

"  I  declare  I  have  no  patience  with  Father's  cool  way  of  discuss 
ing  the  matter!  He  seemed  to  think  there  was  some  satisfactory 
explanation.  Oh,  these  men !  Didn't  I  hear  him  ?"  As  she 
passed  the  mirror  she  paused  and  glanced  at  the  reflection  of 
matchless  loveliness — more  lovely  and  attractive  because  of  the 
distress  in  face  and  attitude.  "  What  can  he  see  in  Kitty,  I  won 
der?  He  is  infatuated.  Perhaps  he  is  a  lunatic!  A  nice  busi 
ness  to  ask  me  to  marry  a  lunatic  1"  and  here  she  cried  a  little 
more. 

"If  he  had  not  been  thoroughly  wicked  he  would  never  have 
ridden  off  in  the  rain !  How  it  does  rain !  He  is  such  a  tiger  of  a 
man  that  he  don't  care  for  anything !  I  wonder  what  he  will  say 
when  I  meet  him  again?  How  shall  I  tell  Mother  what  he  just 
said  to  me  ?  I  cannot  tell  her !  She  would  abhor  him  if  she 
knew.  I'll  tell  nobody  ! 

"  And  there's  Nellie,  never  tired  of  talking  of  him.  He  is  not 
content  with  a  moderate  amount  of  wickedness,  but  wants  to  steal 
my  child's  heart.  If  I  thought  he  really  wished  to  marry  Kitty ! 
Oh,  what  an  absurdity!  he  has  never  had  such  an  intention! 
There  goes  that  ugly  gamekeeper !  and  he  looks  as  triumphant 
as  Satan !  You  are  a  fine  gentleman,  Mr.  Barston,  to  choose  such 


ANOTHER  MONOLOGUE— FEMININE.  163 

a  rival  as  that!  He  is  going  to  the  housekeeper's  room.  I  wish 
Mrs.  Froouie  would  give  him  a  regular  dressing !  If  he  is  court 
ing  Kitty  1  will  get  Father  to  give  him  more  wages  and  let  them 
marry.  It  would  be  a  triple  kindness !  Certainly  a  kindness  to 
these  two,  and  a  mercy  to  that  poor  misguided  man,  who  must  be 
half  drowned  by  this  time.  Drowned !  He  can't  be  drowned. 
Ah,  he  don't  know  that  J  know  of  his  exploit  when  we  were  at 
the  Smuggler's  Cave !  To  think  that  he  has  actually  saved  my 
life !  Because  John  told  me  that  he  could  never  have  caught  the 
boat,  and  when  Mr.  Barston  got  to  him  he  was  nearly  exhausted! 
How  came  he  there?  Was  he  watching  over  mef  Oh,  dear!  he 
said  he  '  relinquished '  me  to  John !  My  head  will  burst  if  I  think 
any  more  about  him ! 

"  Mother  did  not  seem  at  all  shocked,  though  she  was  perplexed 
by  Father's  story.  She  said, l  ask  Johnny ;'  as  if  Johnny  could  ex 
plain  away  that  dialogue  I  overheard  in  the  conservatory.  If  he 
could — oh,  if  he  could !  It  wounds  me  so  deeply  to  relinquish 
my  good  opinion  of  John's  cousin !  And  then,  if  he  never  dared 
to  speak  to  me  again  of  love,  I  might-  come  to  forgive  him  in 
time. 

"  Did  anybody  ever  see  a  man  ride  like  this  lunatic  ?  He  bounded 
from  the  ground  as  if  he  had  wings  on  his  feet,  and  tore  away  on 
that  mad  beast  like  the  Wild  Huntsman!  I  almost  expected  his 
horse  to  blow  flames  from  his  nostrils." 

She  poured  some  water  in  a  basin  and  bathed  her  face,  washing 
away  the  traces  of  tears.  She  moistened  her  handkerchief  with 
eau  de  Cologne,  and  bound  it  round  her  temples.  And  she  sat 
down  to  think. 

"  Johnny  says  I  don't  reason,  but  '  intuit '  things.  Let  me  try 
one  point  at  a  time.  That  is  the  way  these  wise  men  do.  First : 
The  gamekeeper's  story.  I  believe  he  is  really  in  love  with  Kitty, 
and  if  so,  jealousy  is  the  next  step.  It  comes  easily.  His  first 
charge  related  to  Mr.  Barston's  meeting  with  Kitty  on  the  Exeter 
road.  But  Nellie  was  the  attraction  there,  perhaps.  Naturally  he 
was  eager  to  see  John's  child,  and  Kitty's  story  of  that  encounter 
was  very  straight  and  simple.  He  could  not  have  made  love 
speeches  with  William  listening.  That  is  out  of  the  question.  So 
Butler  probably  told  a  story  about  that  Then,  if  he  told  stories 
about  one  thing  he  would  do  the  same  about  another.  I  don't 
believe  a  word  of  that  rascal's  story.  Why  did  his  lace  wear  such 
a  triumphant  grin  just  now!  Shall  I  go  ask  Kitty?  Never! 


164  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

never  P  and  she  drew  herself  up  with  haughty  grace,  while  the 
blood  rushed  to  her  cheeks  and  temples. 

"  Second :  Can  there  be  any  explanation  of  what  I  heard  in  the 
conservatory  ?  He  said,  '  Kitty,  you  must  come  to  Oakland  and 
live  there.'  And  then  he  said  something  about  wrecking  Tier  happi 
ness.  He  did  not  mention  his  happiness.  Altogether  he  did  not 
talk  like  a  man  in  love.  The  mere  words  may  be  explained,  as 
they  were  not  enforced  with  tones.  It  was  a  far  different  tone  he 
used  in  the  library  just  now,  when  he  said  l  he  loved  me  with  every 
pulse  of  his  heart !'  If  he  had  not  been  talking  such  foolishness, 
his  voice  would  have  forced  me  to  believe  him!"  and  once  more  the 
crimson  hue  overspread  her  face  and  neck. 

"  Suppose  there  had  been  no  Kitty  in  the  world,  and  he  had 
said  all  that  to  me !  What  could  I  have  said  ?  Alas !  I  cannot 
tell.  He  is  such  an  obstinate  wretch  that  he  would  not  have 
listened  to  my  objections.  Of  course  such  a  thing  is  too  absurd 
to  think  of!  A  young,  rich,  handsome  man,  who  knows  every 
thing  and  can  do  anything  he  pleases,  and  who  could  marry  almost 
any  girl  in  England,  to  throw  himself  away  upon  a  poor  widow ! 
Why,  Clare  Tamworth  would  be  a  more  suitable  match,  a  hundred 
times !  And  he  could  get  her  easily  if  he  tried.  I  vow  I  will  quit 
thinking  about  him ! 

"I  am  glad  we  are  going  to  Carlisle  next  week!  Clare  is  set 
upon  that  visit,  and  I  am  longing  to  get  out  of  this  neighbourhood 
for  a  few  weeks.  And  it  is  not  probable  that  any  persecutors  will 
follow  us  there,  unless  he  should  conclude  to  court  Clare — the  per 
fidious  wretch !  There,  I  am  thinking  of  him  again !  Bnt  it  would 
be  so  ridiculous  to  overhear  him  telling  Clare  that  he  loved  her 
'with  every  pulse  of  his  heart !' 

"  The  most  reasonable  thing  to  expect  is,  that  Johnny  will  como 
over  here  in  a  day  or  two,  with  some  story  in  defence  of  his  beloved 
Swiss.  If  we  can  only  get  away  before  he  does ! 

"  But  Mr.  Barston  is  so  devoted  to  Xellie  that  he  might  come  to 
Carlisle  to  see  her.  Suppose  I  leave  her  here  with  Kitty  ?  That 
would  be  a  real  sin,  for  if  he  had  a  clear  field,  me  away,  and  nobody 
to  take  care  of  that  poor  girl,  nobody  can  tell  what  might  be  tlio 
consequences !  With  that  voice  of  his  and  those  big  eyes,  that 
look  so  honest  and  gentle  and  loving,  that  horrid  man  could  delude 
a  .saint ! 

"  I  don't  think  I  can  quit  thinking  about  him.  He  shocked  mo 
so  dreadfully  with  his  fierce  way  of  talking  that  I  am  entirely 


THE  EEC  TOR  EXPLAINS.  165 

unstrung.  A  pretty  way  he  has  of  making  love !  To  say  such 
dreadful  cross  things  to  a  poor  woman,  and  then  to  rush  out  of  the 
house  and  gallop  oft'  in  that  insulting  manner.  If  I  harboured 
resentment,  I  should  be  delighted  to  hear  that  he  had  taken  cold 
and  was  dangerously  ill.  Ah !"  she  said,  with  a  charming  little 
shudder,  "  how  wicked  I  must  be  even  to  think  of  such  a  thing. 
This  is  a  fine  return  for  saving  my  life ! 

u  It  seems  like  yesterday  when  this  great  giant  was  a  boy  and 
full  of  boyish  pranks,  leading  my  brothers  into  mischief  and 
ul \vays  standing  between  them  and  harm.  I  can  recall  a  hundred 
tricks,  but  not  one  uukindness,  and  no  one  ever  accused  him  of 
falsehood ;  yet  if  these  accusations  were  true,  he  would  be  both 
cruel  and  false  !  What  would  Johnny  say  to  such  charges! 

"  What  an  irritable,  ill  tempered  man  he  must  be !  Instead  of 
explaining  his  misbehaviour  he  must  tear  away  in  a  towering  rage, 
and  that  after  such  violent  professions  of  love  and  devotion.  If 
he  ever  dares  to  renew  his  professions  I " 


CHAPTER    XXX. 
THE  KECTOR  EXPLAINS. 

rector  dined  at  Morton  Priory  on  the  day  whose  events 
J-  are  recorded  above.  The  rain  continued  far  into  the  night, 
and  he,  nothing  loth,  remained  at  his  Father's  house.  Two  days 
after,  he,  with  Lord  and  Lady  Morton,  were  at  the  Red  Hall 
whose  inmates  were  busy  with  preparations  for  a  visit  to  Scot 
land.  Miss  Tarn  worth  appeared  to  have  charge  of  all  the  arrange 
ments,  and  Lady  Lacy  was  preoccupied  and  silent.  Her  languor 
disappeared,  however,  when  the  rector  suddenly  said : 

"  I  have  a  message  for  you,  Ret,  from  Swiss." 

"  A  message  ?" 

"  Yes ;  I  have  the  letter  here  somewhere,*'  and  he  fumbled  in 
various  pockets.  "  Ah !  here  it  is.  I'll  read  what  he  says.  Urn! 
urn !" 

"  Read  it  all,  John,"  said  his  mother. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  Miss  Tain  worth  might  come  in.     Where  is  she,  Retf 

"  In  her  own  room.  She  is  preparing  for  our  journey  to-morrow, 
and  will  not  be  here  for  an  hour." 

"  Well,  then,  I'll  read  it  all.  There  are  no  secrets  in  it,  but  it 
would  look  odd  to  Miss  Clare—" 


166  TEE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Never  mind  Clare,"  said  Bet,  snappishly  j  "  read  while  you 
have  the  opportunity." 

The  rector  looked  at  her  with  surprise,  but  obediently  began  to 
read : 

"  l  My  dear  Parson ' — he's  in  London,  you  know — that  is,  he 
was.  Nobody  can  tell  where  he  is  now.  '  My  dear  Parson,  I  have 
two  or  three  things  to  tell  you  to-night.  First,  about  Kitty ' " 

"  Ah !"  said  Lady  Morton,  u  that  is  precisely  what  I  am  most 
eager  to  hear." 

"  Indeed !"  said  the  rector ;  "  what  makes  you  so  interested  in 
Kitty,  Mother  ?  Eet  is  the  proper  person  to " 

"  Will  you  please  read  the  letter  f '  said  Eet,  with  perfect  out 
ward  composure. 

"  Certainly.  Where  was  I  ?  Oh !  first  about  Kitty.  I  must 
stop  here,  Eet,  to  explain  about  Kitty — Mother  wishes  to  know. 
Well,  ma'am,  Kitty  was  left  to  Swiss  by  her  father." 

"  Left  to  Swiss  !  What  rubbish  are  you  talking,  Parson  f  said 
Lord  Morton. 

"  It  is  all  right,  sir.  When  old  Willis  was  in  his  last  illness  I 
sent  Swiss  to  see  him.  Ah,  if  you  only  knew  how  Swiss  can  talk ! 
The  old  man  told  me  afterwards  that  he  was  an  angel !  And  he 
told  the  truth — only  Swiss  is  better  than  an  angel  ?" 

"  John,  how  dare  you  talk  in  that  fashion !" 

"  Far  better,  Mother.  An  angel  cannot  have  human  sympathy, 
and  Swiss  is  filled  with  it.  An  angel  could  not  make  any  man  or 
woman  love  him  to  distraction,  and  Swiss  can." 

"  Including  Kitty  P  said  Lady  Morton  quietly. 

"  Ma'am  !" 

"  I  say,  has  he  inspired  Kitty  with  this  distracting  attachment?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  Mother.  Swiss  is  a  gentleman, 
and  it  would  not  occur  to  him  to  try  his  powers  of  fascination 
upon  Kitty  Willis." 

"  Indeed  1     Well,  sir,  that  is  just  what  is  said  of  him." 

"  Who  is  responsible  for  the  slander  ?"  replied  the  rector  hotly. 
«  Mother,  you  did  not  believe  it,  surely !" 

"I  have  suspended  my  judgment  in  the  case  until  I  could  hear 
from  you.  Your  Father  said  he  would  ask  you." 

"  I  forgot  it,"  said  Lord  Morton.  "  The  story  is  a  short  one, 
Parson.  The  gamekeeper,  Butler,  told  me  that  Mr.  Barston  was 
persecuting  Kitty  with  his  attentions-1 " 

"  Attentions  !"  said  his  sou,  aghast.    "  My  dear  Father,  how 


THE  EECTOR  EXPLAINS.  167 

could  you  be  deluded  by  so  monstrous  a  story  !    Kilty  is  a  good 
'girl  and  is  good  looking;   but  Lacy  Barston,  the  scholar,  the 
accomplished  gentleman,   the  bright  Christian — humble  as  any, 
yet  more  haughty  in  his  ancestral  pride  than 

'Haughty  Grimhilda's  haughtier  lord!" 

Keally,  I  am  ashamed  to  discuss  so  absurd  a  proposition.  The 
man  is  an  ass  or  a  rascal !  Here,  listen  to  Swiss :  '  First,  about 
Kitty.  I  saw  her  three  or  four  times,  and  urged  her  to  take  the 
housekeeper's  place  at  Oakland.  The  old  woman  with  whom  she 
has  lived  so  long  would  also  take  some  position  there,  to  shelter 
the  girl  from  evil  tongues.  I  had  a  long  talk  with  Butler,  and 
almost  concluded  to  withdraw  my  opposition,  when  I  remembered 
her  father's  earnest  appeal  to  me  to  watch  over  his  orphan  child. 
Johnny,  I  am  afraid  Butler  is  bad — wholly  bad.  I  fancy  he  is  a 
man  of  good  blood  and  I  fear  he  has  lost  his  place  in  society  by  the 
commission  of  some  horrible  crime.  I  must  tell  you  the  whole 
truth,  and  I  do  it  most  reluctantly.  I  have  nothing  to  support  iny 
opinion  but  vague  instincts,  yet  when  I  challenged  him  to  unfold 
his  past,  he  put  me  off  with  dreadful  words  about  his  father,  whose 
very  memory  he  abhors.  Yet  with  all  this  distrust  and  repug 
nance  I  am  strangely  drawn  to  this  miserable  man,  whose  life  I 
saved  at  sea.  He  almost  cursed  me  for  doing  it !  Now  that  I  am 
away,  I  pray  you  investigate  this  case.  If  your  mother  or  sister, 
or  both,  would  undertake  it,  out  of  pure  compassion  for  a  mother 
less  girl,  it  would  be  far  safer  in  their  hands.  In  my  clumsy 
efforts  to  aid  and  shelter  her  I  have  made  her  hate  the  very  sight 
of  me,  and  I  have  positively  failed  to  accomplish  any  good.  If  I 
had  any  influence  over  her  it  is  lost ! " 

He  was  interrupted  by  his  sister,  who  rose  from  her  seat  and 
pointed  through  the  window  at  a  man  on  the  lawn.  It  was 
Butler. 

"  It  seems  to  me,  Father,  that  your  gamekeeper  should  make 
some  explanation,  and  he  happens  to  be  here.  No  time  like  the 
present."  She  spoke  with  composure,  though  her  face  was  flushed 
and  her  little  hands  clenched.  The  wrong  she  had  done  in  her 
thoughts  to  poor  Swiss  filled  her  with  sorrow,  and  with  her  re 
pentance  she  remembered  the  diabolical  grin  she  had  seen  on 
Butler's  face  when  Barston,  laden  with  her  reproaches,  left  Lacy 
Keep. 

"  Yes,"  answered  her  Father  promptly,  and  passing  through  the 
window  he  held  up  his  finger  to  the  gamekeeper,  who  approached 
at  his  signal. 


168  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Mr.  Barston  has  explained  all  that  was  mysterious  about  his 
interviews  with  Kitty,  and  your  insinuations  were  false."  This 
was  said  with  severe  dignity,  and  Johnny  expected  to  see  the  other 
confused  and  apologetic. 

"  Indeed !"  replied  Butler,  with  a  sneer.  "  Your  lordship  is 
easily  satisfied.  Or,  perhaps,  you  may  think  this  gay  young 
gentleman  is  justifiable  in  filling  a  poor  young  girl's  mind  with 
wrong  notions." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  man  !"  replied  Lord  Morton  ;  "  do  you 
persist  in  charging  this  gentleman  with  wicked  intentions " 

u  That  is  as  your  lordship  pleases,"  said  Butler  coolly.  "  I  have 
told  no  lies,  and  I  am  as  incapable  of  that  vice  as  your  lord 
ship " 

"  How  dare  you  !"  said  Lady  Lacy,  suddenly  appearing  at  her 
father's  side.  The  gamekeeper  removed  his  hat,  yet  returned  her 
haughty  glance  without  wincing. 

"  Your  ladyship  will  pardon  me,"  he  said,  "  but  I  do  not  under 
stand.  I  am  on  my  defence,  it  seems,  yet  I  do  not  yet  know  whom 
I  have  offended." 

"  Go  in,  Bet,"  said  Lord  Morton.  "  Butler,  I  would  not  do  you 
an  injustice,  yet  you  have  done  a  foul  wrong  in  this  matter. 
Had  I  not  known  Mr.  Barston  so  well  I  should  have  been  misled 
by  your  cunning  story.  I  can  make  allowance  for  jealousy ' 

"  Pooh!"  said  Butler.  "  Excuse  me,  my  lord.  I  cannot  be  held 
responsible  for  your  inferences.  Mr.  Barston  has  been  very  offi 
cious  in  his  interference  with  my  affairs " 

"  Speak  with  respect  of  your  superiors,  sir." 

"  I  do  not  recognize  them  in  Mr.  Barston  or  his  associates,  such 
as  Mr.  DeVere.  If  your  lordship  is  displeased  I  will  retire.  I 
have  no  apology  to  offer  for  anything  I  have  said  or  done." 

u  I  give  you  warning  to  quit  my  service " 

"  No  warning  necessary,  my  lord,"  responded  the  other.  "  I  am 
paid  up  to  yesterday  and  I  will  vacate  your  premises  to-night. 
Will  Lady  Lacy  allow  me  to  say  a  word  to  her  nurse  ?" 

Lord  Morton  turned  into  the  room,  but  Ket  was  gone. 

"  There  is  no  reason  for  denying  you  if  she  is  disengaged,"  said 
Lady  Morton.  "  If  you  apply  to  the  housekeeper  she  will  inform 
Kitty  that  you  wish  to  see  her.  I  think  it  would  be  right,  how 
ever,  to  say  what  you  have  to  say  in  Mrs.  Froome's  presence." 

"  I  do  not  object,  madame,"  said  Butler.  "  I  only  wish  to  ex 
plain  to  Kitty  my  changed  relations,  and  the  cause.  I  also  wish  to 


TEE  LETTER.  169 

be  the  first  to  announce  her  deliverance  from  persecution.  Ha! 
ha !  pardon  me,  your  reverence,  but  I  cannot  help  laughing  to 
think  how  your  zeal  and  Mr.  Barston's  have  resulted." 

tl  1  wish  you  would  come  to  the  Rectory  to-morrow,"  said  the 
rector  gently.  "  If  you  will  allow  me  to  befriend  you  and  Kitty 
it  will  give  me  great  pleasure.  There  are  things  you  might  say 
to  me  that  you  would  not  reveal  to  others " 

"  You  mean,  to  explain  '  my  antecedents,'  as  the  Yankees  say  ? 
Thank  your  reverence!  You  are  too  low  church  in  your  views  to 
favour  the  confessional.  If  I  go  into  that  business  I  will  apply  to 
Father  Tom,  who  will  probably  let  me  off  more  lightly." 

il  What  a  devil  the  man  is !"  sighed  the  rector,  as  the  other 
passed  out  of  sight  around  the  angle  of  the  house. 

"  Swiss  is  right,"  said  Lady  Morton,  decidedly.  "  This  man  is 
well  born  and  has  been  driven  by  crime  from  his  proper  station. 
I  think,  also,  he  is  wholly  bad  !  Herbert,  my  dear,  I  thank  you 
for  dismissing  him.  Where  is  Eet  ?" 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 
THE  LETTER. 

WHEN  Lady  Lacy  returned  to  the  room  from  the  terrace  in 
obedience  to  her  father's  command,  her  mother  and  brother 
were  standing  in  the  window,  interested  in  the  discussion  between 
Lord  Morton  and  Butler.  She  espied  the  open  letter  on  the  table, 
and  with  the  superb  grace  of  a  tigress  she  noselessly  caught  it  up, 
and  after  glancing  hurriedly  at  the  others,  she  silently  passed  out 
of  the  room.  Gaining  her  chamber  she  locked  the  door,  and  fall 
ing  on  her  knees  upon  a  low  ottoman  under  the  window,  she 
spread  out  the  sheets  on  the  table  and  began  to  read.  It  is  possi 
ble,  and  under  the  circumstances  not  indecorous,  for  the  gentle 
reader  to  peep  over  her  shapely  shoulder.  Although  the  rector 
has  already  read  a  portion  of  the  letter,  it  will  be  more  satisfac 
tory  to  the  reader,  probably,  to  have  it  all  together. 

LONDON,  1st  May. 
MY  DEAR  PARSON: 

I  have  two  or  three  things  to  tell  you  to-night.  First,  about  Kitty. 
I  saw  her  three  or  four  times,  and  urged  her  to  take  the  house- 


170  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

keeper's  place  at  Oakland.  The  old  woman  with  whom  she  has  lived 
so  long  would  also  take  some  position  there  to  shelter  the  girl 
from  evil  tongues.  I  had  a  long  talk  with  Butler,  and  almost 
concluded  to  withdraw  my  opposition,  when  I  remembered  her 
father's  earnest  appeal  to  me  to  watch  over  his  orphan  child. 
Johnny,  I  am  afraid  Butler  is  bad — wholly  bad.  I  fancy  he  is  a 
man  of  good  blood,  and  I  fear  he  has  lost  his  place  in  society  by 
the  commission  of  some  terrible  crime.  I  must  tell  you  the  whole 
truth,  and  I  do  it  most  reluctantly.  I  have  nothing  to  support  my 
opinion  but  vague  instincts.  Yet  when  I  challenged  him  to  unfold 
his  past,  he  put  me  off  with  doubtful  words  about  his  father,  whose 
very  memory  he  abhors !  Yet,  with  all  this  distrust  and  repug 
nance,  I  am  strangely  drawn  to  this  miserable  man,  whose  life  I 
saved  at  sea.  He  almost  cursed  me  for  doing  it.  Now  that  I  am 
away,  I  pray  you  investigate  this  case.  If  your  mother  or  sister, 
or  both,  would  undertake  it  out  of  pure  compassion  for  a  mother 
less  girl,  it  would  be  far  safer  in  their  hands.  In  my  clumsy  efforts 
to  aid  and  shelter  her  I  have  made  her  hate  the  very  sight  of  me, 
and  I  have  positively  failed  to  accomplish  any  good.  If  I  had  any 
influence  over  her  it  is  lost,  and  I  begin  to  think  I  am  a  general 
failure.  Perhaps  if  she  is  in  love  with  this  fellow  she  may  be  able 
to  control  him,  and  deliver  him  from  evil  habits,  and  all  my  obsti 
nate  interference  may  have  been  so  much  resistance  to  the  orderly 
march  of  beneficent  Providence. 

"Nevertheless,  I  cannot  shake  off  the  responsibility  her  father 
put  upon  me,  except  by  transferring  it  to  the  excellent  ladies  I 
have  named.  If  they  will  assume  the  trust,  my  cares  are  at  an 
end.  Use  your  eloquence,  Parson,  in  Kitty's  behalf. 

The  second  matter  relates  to  Lady  Lacy.  When  I  saw  her  last 
we  had  some  controversy,  touching  transfers  of  certain  property. 
Will  you  please  deliver  this  message  ?  Tell  her  I  hold  to  every 
icord  I  said  to  her  with  a  tenacity  as  relentless  as  death.  There 
is  nothing  possible  or  conceivable  in  the  events  of  Providence 
that  can  change  any  part  of  my  opinions  or  desires  as  related  to 
her.  Yet  I  cannot  contend  with  her,  and  will  obey  her  commands 
as  accurately  as  possible.  The  title  to  the  Lacy  lands  now 
stands  in  her,  with  no  chance  of  litigation  as  against  her,  except 
such  litigation  should  be  begun  by  Lacy  Barstou.  If  she  insists 
upon  this  litigation,  I  beg  to  refer  her  to  Mr.  Alfred  Parchment^ 
who  is  my  solicitor,  and  her's  also,  I  believe.  You  know,  or  rather 
she  knows,  that  the  whole  question  rests  upon  the  interpretation 
of  the  will  of  Sir  Harold  Lacy— three  generations  old. 


THE  LETTER.  171 

"  Speaking  as  a  lawyer,  I  should  say  here  that  a  serious  obsta 
cle  in  the  way  of  settlement  is  found  in  the  difficulty  of  proving 
Elbert  Lacy's  deatb.  While  I  have  no  doubts  on  that  point,  it  would 
still  be  proper  to  demand  security  from  any  holder  of  the  Lacy 
lands  who  should  propose  a  transfer  of  title.  My  title  depends 
solely  upon  the  extinction  of  the  Lacy  line,  and  I  cannot  eject  her 
by  legal  process  until  I  prove  the  line  extinct.  To  do  this  I  must 
prove  Elbert  dead,  which  would  be  (legally)  both  difficult  and 
expensive.  As  a  matter  of  pure  economy,  I  prefer  leaving  her 
in  peaceable  possession. 

"  Another  point  relates  to  certain  money  transactions  between 
Sir  John  Lacy  and  Lacy  Barston.  I  am  the  holder  of  a  mortgage 
upon  the  Red  Hall  and  lands  for  ten  thousand  pounds.  It  was 
transferred  to  me  by  Mr.  Bottomry.  Parchment  would  not  allow 
me  to  cancel  this  mortgage  two  or  three  years  ago,  as  I  desired, 
and  if  your  sister  still  wishes  to  pay  it,  I  am  bound  in  common 
honesty  to  wrarn  her  that  the  document  is  defective,  as  Sir  John 
had  no  (legal)  right  to  transfer,  while  his  elder  brother's  death 
was  uuproven. 

"  Still  another  point  relates  to  other  money  transactions,  for 
which  I  have  no  legal  vouchers.  It  pains  me  no  little  to  recur  to 
these  matters,  but  my  lady  is  obdurate,  and  noblesse  oblige.  I  will 
make  a  fair  statement  of  these  when  I  return,  and  will  abide  by 
her  decision. 

"  When  I  return  !  I  cannot  now  say  when  this  will  be.  I  am 
writing  in  the  cabin  of  the  Dm'e,  a  side  wheel  steamer  that  will 
go  down  the  river  an  hour  hence,  bound  for  i  Nassau  and  a  mar 
ket.'  She  is  laden  with  sundry  commodities  very  much  in  demand 
in  the  southern  half  of  the  Disunited  States,  and  is  commanded  by 
Frank  Hazard,  who  was  Spencer's  first  officer  and  my  good  friend. 
I  am  only  a  passenger  this  time.  I  expect  to  investigate  the  con 
dition  of  affairs  in  the  Confederate  States,  as  the  Dixie  thinks  of 
going  to  Charleston  for  the  market  which  may  not  be  found  at 
Nassau.  She  also  thinks  of  returning  with  a  cargo  of  cotton,  if 
the  blockade  of  the  southern  ports  is  not  too  strong.  Some  one 
has  asserted  to  me  that  New  Orleans  sugar  is  better  than  that 
from  Porto  Kico.  I  hope  to  satisfy  myself  by  personal  inspection 
on  this  point.  If  I  get  into  the  Southern  States  and  out  again 
with  a  whole  skin,  I  purpose  a  short  visit  to  the  West  India 
Islands.  Cuba  for  cigars,  mainly  for  you  and  your  father,  and 
Porto  Kico  for  sugar,  mainly  for  Mrs.  Dawson  and  her  landlord. 


172  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  By  the  bye,  Johnny,  please  ride  Koland  down  to  Eipple  occa 
sionally  and  look  after  the  old  lady  a  little.  Eoland  knows  the 
way.  And  give  Tommy  an  occasional  half  crown ;  it  is  the  tip 
he  expects  from  Eoland's  rider.  You  will  recognize  Tommy  by 
his  mouth.  Nature  has  been  bountiful  to  him  in  that  regard,  and 
no  animal  except  an  alligator  can  rival  him.  If  you  tell  Mrs. 
Dawsoii  you  love  me,  she  will  give  you  a  curd  of  astounding 
elegance. 

"  And  now,  dear  friend,  I  am  admonished  by  the  noises  above 
my  head  that  my  time  is  nearly  up.  I  also  hear  the  singing  of 
the  steam,  and  Hazard  tells  me  the  last  boat  will  quit  the  ship  in 
half  an  hour.  You  will  wonder  what  strange  freak  has  taken  me 
away  from  England.  I  cannot  explain  to  you  now,  though  I  may 
do  so  hereafter.  I  will  only  say  that  I  have  been  nourishing  a 
scheme  for  many  years,  looking  to  the  acquisition  of  a  certain  pos 
session  more  valuable  than  all  my  inheritance.  I  thought  I  was 
tolerably  near  the  attainment,  but  have  suddenly  learned  that  I 
must  wait — I  cannot  tell  how  long.  But  I  am  resolved  to  pursue 
this  object  until  I  die,  unless  it  shall  be  revealed  to  me  that  sin  is 
in  the  pursuit.  It  does  not  seem  so  to  me  now.  If  you  were  to 
ask  me  how  I  fell  into  so  egregious  a  blunder  as  to  think  I  was 
near  possession,  I  cannot  tell  you.  I  do  not  know.  It  is  myste 
rious,  perplexing,  humiliating.  And  my  restless  spirit  longs  for 
the  restless  sea. 

"  When  I  get  upon  blue  water  my  mind  is  usually  clear.  At 
present  I  am  stunned,  stupefied  as  one  who  has  been  feeding  upon 
opium  must  feel.  The  course  of  Providence  has  been  inscrutable 
to  me.  Obstacles  confronted  me  from  the  first  inception  of  desire 
for  this  prize,  which  has  been  the  solitary  object  of  my  life,  and 
longed  for  with  a  passionate  longing  that  is  inexpressible.  It  is 
so  much  a  part  of  my  life  that  I  think  my  life  would  end  if  the 
longing  died.  And  as  the  stately  march  of  Providence  removed 
the  first  obstacle,  a  second,  more  insurmountable,  took  its  place, 
and  compelled  my  acquiescence.  I  thought  it  was  gone  forever, 
but  I  was  mistaken,  and  when  this  also  was  taken  away  it  seemed 
to  wrench  from  me  memory,  consciousness,  hope,  faith,  and  all 
the  attributes  of  manhood.  Then  I  fled  to  the  sea  again,  and  on 
its  broad  bosom  I  found  peace  at  last  and  the  old  hope  revived. 
It  would  avail  nothing  to  tell  you  what  new  plans  I  laid,  and  how 
I  approached  with  steadfast  steps  the  attainment  once  more.  It 
was  too  soon,  and  the  coveted  possession,  almost  within  my  grasp 
as  I  thought,  eluded  me. 


THE  LETTER.  173 

"  And  as  I  go  forth  again,  with  a  purposeless  energy  that  seems 
akin  to  madness,  I  am  only  conscious  of  one  unshaken  determina 
tion,  to  hold  fast  to  my  pursuit,  and  wait. 

"  I  am  upheld  in  this  resolve  by  the  profound  conviction  that 
the  prayers  of  my  whole  lifetime  cannot  be  wasted.  And  the  suc 
cess  which  I  shall  win  at  last  will  fully  atone  for  all  the  disap 
pointments  I  have  hitherto  endured. 

"  Anchor  atrip !    Farewell,  dear  friend. 

"LACY  BARSTON." 

As  she  read  the  concluding  lines  Lady  Lacy  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands,  and  while  the  tears  dropped  through  her  slender 
fingers  upon  the  open  letter  she  murmured: 

"Oh  dear!  oh  dear!  what  shall  I  do!  He  thinks  me  cruel, 
heartless,  proud,  unreasonable,  and  yet  he  loves  me,  he  loves 
me!" 

Later  in  the  day  the  rector  applied  to  his  sister,  with  troubled 
countenance,  for  consolation. 

"  Bet,"  he  said, "  I  walked  down  to  the  Dark  Wood  since  Butler 
was  here,  and  I  have  lost  Barston's  letter !  I  am  sure  I  thrust  it 
in  my  pocket  when  that  fellow  was  talking  to  Father,  and  then  I 
forgot  all  about  it  until  I  returned  from  my  walk.  I  have  turned 
all  my  pockets  inside  out!  I  have  been  down  to  the  Wood  again, 
but  it's  gone !  There  was  a  long  message  to  you  in  it !" 

"Can  you  not  remember  itP  she  answered,  with  deceitful  com 
posure. 

"  No!  It  was  something  about  title  deeds  and  law  matters,  and 
there  was  a  great  lot  of  bosh  in  it  about  some  wild  goose  chase 
upon  which  he  has  set  his  heart.  I  thought  you  might  help  me 
to  understand  what  the  lunatic  is  driving  at.  I'll  go  back  to  the 
Wood  and  take  another  hunt  for  it." 

"  Very  well,  Johnny,"  said  Ret,  sympathetically.  "  If  you  fail 
to  find  it  you  can  tell  me  the  main  points,  and  I  can  guess  the 
rest.  Make  haste  back." 

And  when  the  perplexed  rector  passed  through  the  ruined  arch, 
on  his  hopeless  errand,  the  heartless  vixen  drew  the  letter  from 
her  bosom  and  nefariously  kissed  it! 

Gentle  reader,  these  feminine  characters  give  an  enormous 
amount  of  trouble.  One  may  honestly  endeavour  to  describe 
their  tricks,  but  their  motives  are  beyond  human  scrutiny. 


114  •      THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 


CHAPTER    XXXII. 

CLARE'S  SYMPATHY. 

SO  little  has  been  said  hitherto  about  Miss  Clare  Tamworth, 
that  the  reader  must  be  somewhat  doubtful  about  her  men 
tal  exercises,  as  she  has  kept  so  quiet  and  undemonstrative.  It  is 
possible  that  Lady  Lacy  has  a  positive  identity  in  the  minds 
of  all  who  have  patiently  read  the  foregoing  pages.  In  the  hope 
that  his  duty  as  a  faithful  chronicler  has  been  discharged  in  her 
case,  the  author  leaves  her  to  work  out  her  natural  destiny,  while 
a  little  more  direct  attention  is  bestowed  upon  her  chosen  friend 
and  companion. 

The  playful  accusation  of  our  friend  Swiss  was  founded  upon 
fact.  This  amiable  young  lady  was  lover  proof.  Barston  had 
really  met  with  two  or  three  doleful  swains  in  London,  whose  best 
powers  of  fascination  had  been  tried  upon  Miss  Tarn  worth  in  vain. 
One  of  them,  the  Viscount  Lappermilk,  was  specially  discomfited. 
He  was  an  Oxford  man,  and  Barston  had  befriended  him  there 
in  his  hopeless  digging  among  Greek  roots,  and  won  his  grati 
tude  and  confidence,  and  he  unbosomed  himself  over  a  dinner  at 
the  club  in  this  wise : 

"  Miss  Tamworth,  Swiss,  is  a  wegular  stunnah !  SLe  has  lots  of 
tin,  too.  Don't  twy  for  it,  ol'  fellah,  you  cawnt  go  in  and  win.  I 
twied ;  and  weally,  I  got  so  spoony  that  I  forgot  the  tin.  But  she 
is  equally  beyond  the  weach  of  delibewate  appwoaches  or  the  pas 
sionate  wush.  I  twied  both." 

Although  Lord  Lappermilk  was  himself  rather  impecunious,  he 
was  the  son  and  heir  of  an  earl,  and  would  inherit  a  very  fine 
estate  some  day,  and  Swiss  frankly  told  him  that  he  should  waste 
no  energies  in  pursuing  so  coy  a  damsel.  "  She  has  won  honour 
enough,  Lappermilk,"  he  said,  "  in  throwing  you  over.  I  shall  not 
give  her  the  chance  to  repeat  the  exploit  upon  me." 

u  She  did  not  exactly  throw  me  ovah !"  replied  the  Viscount. 
"  When  I  made  the  wush  she  said  it  was  pwetty,  and  she  had  wead 
it  in  a  book.  I  assured  her  that  I  spoke  my  weal  sentiments  and 
was  wegular  spoony,  and  she  wung  the  bell  and  told  the  flunkey 
to  '  bwing  Lord  Lappermilk  a  glass  of  iced  water.'  As  she  chose 
to  take  it  in  that  way  I  thought  I  would  not  pwess  the  mattah. 
But  she  is  without  a  heart,  Swiss." 


CLARE'S  SYMPATHY.  175 

To  disprove  tbis  slander  is  the  purpose  of  the  present  chapter. 
"When  the  Reverend  John  Harwood  started  for  the  Dark  Wood  the 
second  time,  lie  met  Miss  Tamworth  near  a  belt  of  shrubbery  be 
yond  the  ruined  arch. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Clare,"  he  said,  "  I  have  lost  a  letter  that  I  am 
most  anxious  to  recover." 

"  Can  I  aid  you  in  your  search  ?"  said  she. 

"  Yes !  Perhaps  you  may  find  it  in  the  shrubbery.  I  think  I 
passed  through  this  edge  of  it  as  I  went  to  the  Wood.  I  am  going 
back  there.  It  is  from  Swiss." 

"  Where  is  he  ?"  inquired  Miss  Tamworth.  "  I  miss  him  dread 
fully." 

"  He  is  on  the  sea  by  this  time,"  answered  the  rector,  with  a 
pang  of  jealousy.  "If  you  are  so  much  interested  in  him  I  am 
glad  he  is  gone !" 

"On  the  sea!  What  unexplored  regions  does  he  seek  this 
time  F 

"  I  think  he  is  going  among  the  Yankees.  It  is  some  sort  of 
piratical  expedition.  The  letter  tells,  if  we  can  only  find  it.  I'll 
be  back  in  fifteen  minutes,"  and  he  walked  hastily  away. 

When  she  entered  the  little  grove  of  evergreens  Miss  Tamworth 
diligently  examined  the  ground  at  each  step  without  finding  the 
lost  letter.  It  is  not  probable  that  her  search  would  have  been 
successful  if  she  had  examined  every  square  inch  of  the  plantation. 
She  was  slightly  startled  to  see  Butler  standing  in  the  path  when 
she  raised  her  eyes.  Kitty  was  just  disappearing  in  the  direction 
of  the  Hall. 

u  Will  Miss  Tamworth  do  me  the  great  kindness  to  listen  five 
minutes " 

"  Not  here,  certainly,"  replied  she,  as  she  turned  to  follow  Kitty. 

UI  beg  your  pardon, "persisted  Butler,  "if  you  will  look  across 
the  fence  here  you  will  see  the  gardener  within  call.  What  I  say 
to  you  must  be  said  secretly  if  at  all !" 

"What  do  you  wish?"  said  Clare,  with  calm  dignity. 

"  I  wish  you  to  believe  me.  First  of  all,  I  am  a  gentleman  of  good 
name  and  the  rightful  owner  of  a  fair  inheritance.  I  can  oifer 
you  no  proof  but  this  ;"  and  he  pulled  oft'  his  leather  glove  an 
stretched  out  his  hand,  white  and  small,  with  long  tapering  lingers- 
"  I  thought  I  might  rely  upon  the  instinct  of  a  well-bred  lady  to 
recognize  one  of  her  own  class  even  in  this  disguise."  This  was 
said  with  steady  composure.  "  I  was  Lord  Morton's  gamekeeper 


176  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

an  hour  ago,  but  have  been  dismissed,  mainly  because  I  intend  to 
marry  yonder  girl." 

"Kitty  Willis  P  said  Miss  Tamworth.  "You  surprise  me.  I 
know  nothing  about  the  matter.  Supposing  you  are  telling  the 
truth  about  your  own  station,  which  I  do  not  dispute,  I  cannot 
see  the  propriety  of  the  match  you  propose.  It  is  not  probable 
that  your  family " 

"I  ain  thankful  to  say  that  I  am  alone  in  the  world.  None  of 
my  kindred,  near  enough  to  call  for  affectionate  interest,  remain 
upon  the  face  of  the  earth.  Besides,  the  girl  is  better  bred  than 
you  suppose.  Anyhow,  I  am  bound  in  honour  to  marry  her,  for  I 
promised  when  we  were  children  a  dozen  years  ago,  and  I  have 
never  yet  failed  to  redeem  my  word  ;  and  she  is  dearer  to  me  than 
any  other  woman  can  ever  be.  I  only  wanted  to  ask  you  to  be 
kind  to  her." 

"  I  am  not  aware  that  I  have  been  unkind  to  her." 

"  Far  from  it,  madam.  On  the  contrary,  I  am  emboldened  to 
make  this  appeal  to  you  because  you  have  been  specially  kind.  If 
you  will  consider  what  is  involved  in  orphanage  and  poverty — at 
least  such  measure  of  poverty  as  makes  this  place  and  her  wages 
important  to  her — and  think  of  the  torture  inflicted  by  mistaken 
kindness  on  the  part  of  the  rector  and  his  friend,  Mr.  Barston " 

"  I  cannot  imagine  what  you  are  talking  about,"  said  Clare,  im 
petuously  ;  "  What  do  you  mean  by  saying  these  things  P 

"  I  mean  that  her  pastor  thinks  the  discharged  gamekeeper  is 
not  good  enough  for  her,  and  tells  her  so.  I  mean  that  Mr.  Bar 
ston  told  her  two  days  ago  that  I  was  a  brute,  and  unfit  to  marry 
any  decent  girl ;  and  I  mean  that  I  would  rely  more  upon  your 
gentle  charity  and  your  quick  wit  to  shield  her  while  I  am  absent 
than  upon  anything  else.  Mr.  Barston " 

"  Will  not  trouble  you  or  Kitty  very  soon.  He  has  gone  on  a 
piratical  expedition." 

"  What  say  you  1"  said  the  other,  a  paleness  overspreading  his 
face.  "  What  horrible  words  are  these  1" 

"  I  suppose  it  was  only  the  rector's  joke,"  she  said,  a  little 
shocked  at  the  effect  of  her  words ;  "  but  Mr.  Barston  has  really 
sailed  for  America." 

"  On  board  the  Dixie,  I'll  be  sworn  I  Do  you  know,  Miss  Tam 
worth,  that  I  should  have  sailed  in  that  ship  if  she  had  delayed 
her  departure  only  one  more  day  ?  and  finding  Barston  aboard,  I 
swear  I  would  have  scuttled  the  ship  to  get  finally  rid  of  him  ! 


CLARE'S  SYMPATHY.  177 

What  a  narrow  escape  for  us  both !   for  I  cannot  quarrel  with 
Barston,  for  two  weighty  reasons  ;  one,  he  saved  my  life  once " 

"  And  the  other  ?"  said  Clare,  as  he  paused. 

"  No  matter  about  the  other;  one  is  sufficient.  lam  greatly 
relieved  to  know  he  is  out  of  England.  Miss  Tamworth,  I  tliank 
you  for  your  kindness  in  listening  to  me.  I  ask  no  promise  from 
you  ;  I  only  remark  that  I  desire  to  remain  unknown  and  unsus 
pected  for  the  present,  and  only  you  and  Kitty  know  that  I  am 
anything  more  than  Butler  the  drunken  gamekeeper.  If  you  could 
be  told  all  of  my  story  I  should  be  certain  of  your  sympathy."  He 
brushed  his  hand  across  his  eyes  as  he  spoke.  "  How  much  of  my 
present  distress  is  due  to  my  own  misconduct,  and  how  much  to 
the  flagrant  wrong  doings  of  others,  I  cannot  say,  and  you  would 
hardly  care  to  hear.  Adieu,  madam.  It  is  not  probable  that  we 
shall  ever  meet  again  P  and  suddenly  opening  a  wicket  in  the 
fence  and  crossing  the  garden,  he  passed  from  her  sight  forever. 

"  Poor  man  P  said  Clare ;  "  this  is  decidedly  romantic.  He 
must  be  a  gentleman,  or  else  the  prince  of  dissemblers !  Anyhow, 
I  sympathize  with  him  in  his  distress,  and  will  keep  his  secret.  I 
sliall  have  opportunities  to  question  Kitty  when  we  get  to  Carlisle. 
I  must  also  find  out  why  the  rector  takes  so  deep  an  interest  in 
Kitty.  Here  he  comes,  without  his  letter."  As  Mr.  Harwood 
approached  she  recommenced  her  search,  flitting  in  and  out  among 
the  trees  like  a  well  grown  bird  of  paradise. 

"  How  kind  of  you,"  said  Parson  Johnny  as  he  joined  her,  "  to 
hunt  for  that  tiresome  letter.  "  Never  mind  it ;  some  one  will  find 
it,  probably,  and  return  it." 

"Mr.  Butler  was  here  just  now,"  replied  Clare,  "and  I  saw 
Kitty  also,  just  after  you  left  me." 

"  Indeed  !  Well,  if  they  should  happen  to  read  it  they  will 
scarcely  approve  of  all  Barston's  sentiments.  He  speaks  of  them 
both  in  it." 

"  Do  you  remember  what  he  says  ?" 

"Yes;  that  is,  I  remember  the  general  drift  of  his  remarks. 
Swiss  thinks  Butler  is  a  scamp,  and  so  do  I.  He  confronted  my 
Father  to-day  in  a  manner  that  was  rather  insolent,  considering 
his  station.  Swiss  thinks  that  the  fellow  is  better  bred  than  he 
appears." 

"  So  do  I,"  answered  Miss  Tamworth. 

"  You  do?  well,  that  settles  it.  But  Barston  also  fears  that  he 
has  committed  some  crime  by  which  he  lost  caste.  He  will  not 

12 


178  TEE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

allow  any  one  to  question  him  about  the  past.  I  noticed  that  you 
called  him  Mr.  Butler  just  now." 

"  Did  I  ?  He  reminds  me  of  some  one  I  have  known,  but  I  can 
not  tell  whom.  What  does  Mr.  Barston  say  of  Kitty  P 

"  A  great  deal.  He  knew  her  father,  and  has  always  taken  a 
great  interest  in  her.  Butler  is  courting  her — indeed  they  are  so 
far  agreed  that  they  will  marry,  no  doubt.  This  makes  us  eager 
to  know  more  about  him  for  the  girl's  sake." 

"  Probably  you  had  better  let  them  alone.  Here  is  Eet  j  let  us 
ask  her.  Eet,  what  do  you  think  of  Butler  ?" 

"  I  think  he  is  a  rascal.  I  was  looking  for  you.  The  dressing 
bell  has  just  rung.  Come  in." 

"  You  Harwoods  are  a  hard  hearted,  suspicious,  obstinate  set," 
said  Clare  impetuously.  I  believe  Butler  is  a  good  sort  of  man, 
and  if  he  wants  to  marry  Kitty  I  mean  to  help  him.  There  !  You 
need  not  look  so  astounded.  I  have  been  allowing  you  to  have 
your  own  way  so  long  that  you  are  well  nigh  ruined.  When  we 
get  to  Carlisle  I  am  going  to  conspire  with  Kitty  to  circumvent 
you.  Come  on,  Eet." 

"  Did  you  find  your  letter,  Johnny  P  asked  Lady  Lacy,  as  they 
entered  the  hail.  "Well,  never  mind  it,  dear." 


CHAPTEE    XXXIII. 
Two  YEARS  LATER. 

npHB  events  which  have  happened  during  this  unrecorded  in- 
-JL  terval  do  not  affect  the  course  of  the  present  narrative  mate 
rially.  After  various  adventures  Mr.  Barston  found  himself  in  New 
York  at  the  end  of  two  years,  and  secured  passage  to  Liverpool  by 
the  Eoyal  Mail  Steamer  Scotia.  The  only  circumstance  to  notice  was 
his  accidental  meeting  with  a  countryman  in  New  York,  one  John 
Hawder,  whom  he  had  known  in  his  boyhood.  Hawder's  father 
was  steward  of  the  Lacy  estates,  and  the  younger  Hawder  had 
emigrated  to  America  several  years  before.  He  was  a  widower 
and  had  a  child,  born  in  the  new  country,  and  the  sight  of  our 
friend  Barston  was  a  bright  spot  in  their  dull  lives.  From 
Hawder  he  learned  that  Mr.  Butler,  whom  he  recognized  by  his 
description,  had  been  in  New  York  a  year  or  two  previously,  in- 


TWO  YEARS  LATER.  179 

dulging  in  evil  habits  without  stiut.  Barston  hoped  to  learn 
something  of  his  early  history  from  Hawder,  but  he  knew  only 
some  fragmentary  portions  of  his-  story  that  did  not  enlighten 
Barston,  but  rather  confirmed  him  in  his  distrust  of  the  game 
keeper.  Hawder  was  about  starting  to  take  charge  of  a  farm  in 
the  interior  of  New  Jersey,  and  knowing  that  Swiss  would  see  his 
kindred  in  Lavington,  he  gave  him  a  post-office  address  to  leave 
with  them.  Barston  rarely  forgot  anything,  and  this  address  was 
useful  to  him  later. 

Shortly  after  Barston's  departure  from  England  Lady  Lacy  and 
her  friend,  Mi^s  Tamworth,  went  to  Paris,  thence  to  Switzerland, 
where  they  spent  the  summer.  There  was  no  intelligence  from 
Mr.  Barston  for  nearly  two  years.  He  was  in  the  Confederate 
States  a  large  part  of  the  time,  and  postal  communication  with 
the  outside  world  was  attended  with  difficulties.  He  finally 
escaped  in  a  blockade-runner,  bound  for  Nassau,  but  being  chased 
by  Federal  cruisers,  was  driven  into  the  Gulf,  and  finally  found 
shelter  in  Kingston,  Jamaica.  Mr.  Barston  being  unoccupied, 
assisted  in  the  ceremonies  attending  three  tornadoes  and  one 
small  earthquake,  and  then  sailed  for  Port  Rico.  Here  he  in 
vested  some  sovereigns  in  sugar,  which  was  duly  shipped  to 
London,  and  forwarded  thence  to  Lavington.  The  rector  received 
a  brief  letter  from  his  friend,  who  wrote  very  hurriedly  on  the  eve 
of  his  departure  for  New  York,  and  only  advised  him  of  this  ship 
ment,  and  requested  him  to  have  two  barrels  filled  from  the  hogs 
head,  sending  one  to  the  Eed  Hall,  with  his  compliments,  to  Lady 
Lacy,  and  the  other  to  Ripple  Farm.  He  promised  to  write  at 
length  from  New  York,  but  as  he  sailed  by  the  first  mail  steamer 
after  his  arrival  he  did  not  fulfil  his  promise. 

One  bright  morning  the  Reverend  John  Harwood  was  caught 
round  the  waist  on  the  main  street  of  Lavington  by  a  stalwart 
man,  with  bright  eyes  and  enormous  beard,  rudely  shaken  up  and 
actually  hugged,  to  the  great  astonishment  of  two  small  boys, 
pupils  in  the  rector's  Sunday  school,  who  had  just  been  patted  on 
their  heads  and  made  recipients  of  sixpence  each. 

"  My  dear,  dear  Parson !"  said  Swiss,  "  my  heart  is  filled  with 
joy  at  seeing  you  once  more  1" 

"  Welcome  home,  my  dear  Swiss,"  answered  the  rector  warmly, 
"  I  am  truly  happy  to  see  you  again.  When  do  you  embark,  and 
for  what  port1?" 

"  I  have  done  with  the  sea,  Johnny.  Have  you  any  cold  meat 
and  bread  at  your  house  ?  I  am  famishing  with  hunger." 


180  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

•.  "  That  is  jolly !  I  have  not  had  breakfast  yet.  Come  on !  I 
heard  the  train  just  now,  but  did  not  hope  for  this  pleasure.  I 
am  forlorn  here  now.  Father  is  in  London,  Eet  is  in  Scotland. 
If  your  next  ship  does  not  sail  for  two  days  you  can  get  a  gti mpse 
of  them  all." 

"  Get  out  with  your  quips,  Parson,"  returned  Swiss.  "  I  tell 
you  I  meditate  no  new  flights.  My  confident  expectation  is  to 
spend  the  rest  of  my  days  on  this  blessed  island.  You  ought  to 
be  above  assaulting  a  starving  man.  Do  you  know  whether  you 
have  any  chops  in  your  larder  f 

"  Certainly,  plenty  of  them  !  Soyez  tranquille  !  Within  ten 
minutes  your  cravings  shall  be  appeased.  Where  is  your  next 
ship  going  f 

"  To  Kamschatka !  I  want  a  chaplain,  and  will  take  you.  Here 
is  the  rectory.  Have  you  got  a  rectoress  yet  ?  Why  have  you 
not  written  to  me  these  years  ?  How  d'ye  do,  Bridget  P 

"Wilcome  home,  Mr.  Lacy,"  said  that  hard  featured  female. 
"  The  master  tould  me  yees  was  coming,  and  ye'll  find  your  room 
in  order.  Breakfast  is  all  ready,  sir." 

Mr.  Barston,  who  was  entirely  humanized  within  an  hour,  plied 
the  rector  with  questions.  The  Ripple  Farm  people  were  prosperous 
and  unchanged,  except  that  Tommy  had  increased  in  stature.  Mr. 
Harwood  had  been  there  about  once  a  week,  and  usually  partook 
of  curds.  Mrs.  Dawson  had  received  her  sugar  and  the  Eed  Hall 
barrel  had  been  forwarded,  but  Lady  Lacy  and  her  household 
were  at  Stirling.  Nellie  had  grown,  and  being  petted  by  tbree 
uncles  and  two  grandparents,  was  totally  ruined,  but  more  charm 
ing  than  ever.  Miss  Tamworth  was  still  unmarried,  and,  in  the 
Parson's  judgment,  was  a  confirmed  man-hater.  Lady  Lacy  was 
in  excellent  health,  but  wore  habitually  the  chastened  expression 
that  came  with  her  widowhood.  Johnny's  profound  conviction 
was,  that  poor  Bet's  heart  was  buried  in  the  cemetery  of  the  Lacys. 
Swiss  thought  he  would  try  to  dig  it  up,  but  was  somewhat  dis 
comfited  by  the  rector's  gloomy  views. 

Mr.  Butler  had  been  remarkably  erratic  in  his  movements.  He 
had  disappeared  for  a  year  or  more,  very  soon  after  Barston  sailed 
in  the  Dixie.  Then  he  had  been  visible  again  in  Lavington,  and 
was  usually  attired  in  well  made  gentleman's  costume.  His  habits 
were  possibly  better.  The  rector  had  met  him  once  or  twice  and 
endeavoured  to  converse  with  him,  but  pumped  nothing  better 
than  monosyllables  from  him.  About  Kitty  he  positively  declined 
to  talk  at  all. 


TWO    YEARS  LATER.  181 

Kitty  was  a  model  of  propriety  and  reticence.  All  the  efforts 
Mr.  Harwood  Lad  made  to  ascertain  the  state  of  her  mind  had 
been  unavailing.  She  listened  with  great  politeness  and  atteni- 
tiou  to  his  moral  essays,  but  declined  to  criticise  them.  Lady 
Morton  and  Ret  had  talked  very  kindly  to  her,  and  she  expressed 
great  thankfulness,  but  did  not  say  a  word  as  to  her  intentions. 
Miss  Tauiworth  steadfastly  opposed  this  kind  interference,  and 
the  rector  said  "  She  patted  Kitty  on  the  back,  in  a  figurative 
sense,  and  in  a  most  exasperating  manner." 

"  The  truth  is,  Swiss,"  said  the  rector,  "  I  am  beginning  to  think 
that  we  have  no  right  to  annoy  this  girl  any  more.  If  she  is  not 
able  to  take  care  of  herself  I  am  very  much  mistaken.  Mother 
says  it  is  indecorous  to  proceed  any  further." 

"  That  settles  the  point,  Parson,"  answered  Swiss ;  "  you  a.re 
always  in  peril  when  you  run  counter  to  the  views  of  a  good 
woman.  And  in  this  special  case  Lady  Morton  is  doubtless  the 
best  judge.  Did  this  fellow  look  like  a  gentleman?" 

"  I  think  he  did  and  does.  I  cannot  forget  that  he  filled  a  sub 
ordinate  position  in  my  Father's  household,  yet  his  manner  is  per 
fectly  unaffected  and  natural.  There  is  a  certain  roughness  in  his 
demeanour  which  might  pass  for  eccentricity  if  one  Jcneiv  him  to 
be  thoroughbred.  He  has  not  been  educated,  I  think.  In  one  of 
my  talks  with  him  I  quoted  a  line  from  Virgil,  familiar  to  any 
schoolboy,  and  he  said,  coolly,  l  I  don't  understand  Latin.'  If  he 
had  not  been  of  a  good  breed  he  would,  perhaps,  have  concealed 
his  ignorance.  My  judgment  is  that  he  has  been  intractable  and 
violent  in  his  youth,  refusing  to  submit  to  lawful  authority,  and 
has  grown  up  to  manhood  without  restraints,  and  is  now  hardened. 
He  talks  grammatically  and  with  a  good  selection  of  words  usually, 
though  at  times  he  indulges  in  regular  sea  lingo,  as  if  that  were 
his  native  tongue.  Altogether  the  man  bothers  me  horribly." 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  it,"  said  Barston,  "  and  assure  you  of 
my  genuine  sympathy.  I  have  never  before  encountered  a  man 
who  was  able  to  keep  me  in  constant  suspense  as  to  his  status. 
But  1  feel  authorized  to  withdraw  from  the  contest,  and  shall  in 
terfere  wit li  him  no  more.  Indeed,  if  his  habits  are  passably 
decent,  it  will  afford  me  great  pleasure  to  aid  him  in  any  way,  for 
Kitty's  sake.  It  would  not  be  a  kindness  to  help  him  to  ruin." 

"  What  have  yon  been  doing,  Swiss,  in  these  two  years  ?" 

"  A  multitude  of  things,  my  friend.  I  have  been  in  many  hos 
pitals,  trying  to  comfort  wounded,  sick  and  dying  men.  I  have 


182  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS.' 

been  allowed  to  take  last  messages  to  bereaved  wives  and  mothers. 
I  have  learned  many  lessons  of  heroic  endurance,  the  like  of  which 
I  shall  never  see  again  on  earth.  I  could  not  fully  appreciate  the 
sentiments  of  the  men  who  resolutely  faced  untold  horrors  and 
who  nourished  a  constant  expectation  of  final  success  in  the  very 
face  of  death.  Our  fellows  in  the  Crimea  did  about  as  good  fight 
ing  as  men  could  do,  but  there  was  no  such  manifestation  of  de 
votion  to  a  sentiment  there.  You  have  told  me  nothing  about 
Eoland." 

"  The  old  rascal  defies  the  march  of  time.  He  is  here,  ready 
for  a  gallop  whenever  you  please." 

"  I  will  renew  my  acquaintance  with  him.  I  must  go  to  Eipple 
this  morning.  We'll  lunch  on  curds.  Eeturning,  I  invite  you  to 
dine  with  me  at  Oakland " 

"  I  accept." 

"  Then  at  nine-twenty  I  purpose  taking  the  up  train " 

11  Are  you  mad,  Swiss?" 

"  Sane,  parson.    But  I  must  travel  to-night." 

"  Whither  P 

"  Towards  the  bleak  north.  To  Stirling !  I  am  dying  for  a 
sight  of  Nellie !  You  will  please  give  me  full  directions  where  to 
look  for  the  child " 

"  Better  than  that,  my  friend.  I  will  go  with  you  !  I,  also,  am 
dying  to  see — Nellie !" 


CHAPTEE    XXXIV. 

STIRLING. 

AMONG  Miss  Tamworth's  possessions  was  a  certain  parcel  of 
land  in  the  outskirts  of  Stirling.  A  few  acres,  cut  off  from 
a  farm  which  yielded  her  a  small  rental,  were  devoted  to  a  cottage 
and  the  needful  outhouses,  all  enclosed  by  a  hedge  and  shaded  by 
stately  trees.  It  is  probable  that  she  spent  a  few  mouths  here, 
.annually,  only  because  of  its  proximity  to  the  romantic  scenery  of 
the  lochs,  and  at  the  date  of  the  present  chapter  she  and  Lady 
Lacy  were  busily  engaged  in  preparations  for  a  visit  to  the 
Trossachs,  Loch  Katrine,  and  possibly  to  Edinburgh.  All  this 
country  was  new  to  Lady  Lacy,  and  she  looked  forward  to  the 
excursion  with  bright  anticipations.  The  Wizard  of  the  North 


STIRLING.  183 

has  invested  all  that  portion  of  Her  Majesty's  dominions  with 
special  interest,  and  Ret  studied  with  great  eagerness  the  map  of 
their  projected  journeys,  noticing  the  succession  of  historic  locali 
ties,  and  promising  herself  unmixed  pleasure  at  every  step  of 
their  progress.  Later  in  the  autumn  they  w  ere  to  spend  a  mouth 
at  Clifton,  where  Miss  Clare  professed  to  live,  though  for  six  or 
seven  years  she  had  been  almost  constantly  a  member  of  Lady 
Lacy's  household.  These  present  and  proximate  visitations  were 
tacitly  accounted  a  sort  of  return  call,  with  the  understanding 
that  they  would  then  resume  their  former  relations,  Miss  Clare 
accepting  Lady  Lacy's  hospitality  for  an  indefinite  time.  These 
young  women,  who  had  been  together  from  childhood,  were  sis 
ters  in  affection,  and  each  was  necessary  to  the  happiness  of  the 
other,  sharing  each  other's  secrets  almost  universally,  but  each 
having  one  little  nook  in  her  gentle  heart  hidden  from  all  mortal 
scrutiny. 

"Ret,  my  dear,"  said  Clare,  with  elaborate  indifference,  "I 
think  it  very  probable  that  your  reverend  brother  will  be  here 
to-day  or  to-morrow." 

"  Indeed !     He  said  nothing  to  me  of  such  an  intention." 

"Yes,  he  did.  He  said  he  desired  to  accompany  you  to  the 
Trossachs,  and  you  told  him  we  should  go  this  week." 

"  Well.  He  is  a  good  boy,  my  dear,  and  will  not  be  trouble 
some." 

"  All  men  are  troublesome,  Eet,  especially  in  travelling.  It  is 
true  they  make  a  great  parade,  getting  tickets,  attending  to  lug 
gage,  calling  cabs  and  the  like.  But  you  can  have  all  these  things 
done  by  your  maid,  or  if  you  really  need  a  man,  you  can  always 
get  a  railway  porter,  pay  him  a  shilling  and  get  rid  of  him  after 
the  service  is  rendered.  You  can't  pay  the  rector  a  shilling  and 
send  him  off!" 

11  May  I  tell  him  your  views,"  said  Ret,  amused. 

"  Oh,  certainly.     But  I  have  already  told  him." 

"How  did  he  like  your  sentiments'?'' 

"  .My  dear,  all  men  are  conceited.  He  said  he  was  entirely 
satisfied  to  take  the  position,  so  long  as  I  made  no  exceptions. 
But  there  was  a  pleasant  smirk  on  his  face,  indicating  his  confi 
dence  in  his  own  attractions.  You  can't  get  the  conceit  out  of  them 
by  the  plainest  statements !" 

"If  he  should  come  and  accompany  us  it  will  be  for  the  sake 
of  escorting  you,  and  I  believe  you  are  secretly  delighted  to  have 
the  poor  boy  dangling  after  you — you  hard-hearted  wretch. !" 


184  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Indeed,  you  are  partly  right,"  answered  Miss  Tamworth,  toss 
ing  her  head ;  "  he  is  better  than  most  of  the  danglers,  in  that  he 
takes  himself  off  for  a  quiet  smoke  about  every  hour,  and  one 
gets  short  intervals  of  rest.  Eet,  I  want  to  look  at  the  Lacy 
Diamonds !" 

"  That  reminds  me "  said  Lady  Lacy.     "  Kitty !" 

"  My  lady  ?"  answered  Kitty  from  the  garden. 

"  You  are  going  with  Nellie  to  drive  presently.  Go  to  Stirling 
to  the  jeweller's — here  is  his  card — and  get  my  brooch.  You  had 
better  pin  it  in  your  collar  for  safety,  securing  the  guard-chain; 
cover  it  with  your  scarf,  Kitty.  Here  is  a  half  crown.  He  only 
had  to  repair  the  guard-chain." 

"Yes,  my  lady.  The  carriage  is  here  now.  Shall  I  go  at 
once  P 

"  Yes.  Now,  Clare,  you  will  have  to  wait  Kitty's  return.  The 
earrings  are  up  stairs." 

"  And  the  necklace " 

"  Ah !  that  is  not  here.  My  dear,  you  have  seen  these  gaudy 
toys  a  hundred  times." 

"  I  have  not  seen  that  necklace  for  half  a  dozen  years." 

"  Nor  I,"  answered  Eet.  There  was  a  cloud  upon  her  fair  brow 
which  the  quick  eye  of  her  friend  noticed.  She  drew  near,  put 
her  arm  around  her  neck  and  kissed  her. 

"  Forgive  my  thoughtless  folly,  my  love !  I  fear  I  have  given 
you  pain !  Ket !"  she  continued,  vehemently,  "  I  do  sincerely 
believe  there  is  some  dreadful  curse  about  those  diamonds ! 
There!  I  have  hurt  you  again!  Shall  I  quit  talking  about 
them?" 

"  Yes,  dear,  if  you  don't  mind,"  said  Eet  quietly.  "  There  goes 
the  carriage.  Look  at  Nellie !  She  is  driving  !" 

"  Yes,  and  if  that  great  monster,  Mr.  Barston,  comes  back  he 
will  teach  her  to  swear  at  the  horses !  What  an  amiable  lunatic 
the  man  is !"  She  was  looking  out  the  window  and  did  not  see  the 
little  glow  that  spread  over  her  friend's  face.  "  Nellie  says  the 
last  time  she  rode  with  him  she  held  the  bridle,  and  he  only 
talked  to  that  wild  beast  he  rides.  Nellie  says  the  horse  stands 
dead  still  when  he  bids  him.  Ah!"  she  continued,  with  a  little 
shiver,  "  what  a  life  the  poor  woman  whom  he  marries  will  lead !" 

"Suppose  you  undertake  him,  Clare?"  said  her  friend,  with 
a  little  grain  of  spite. 

"Never!"  replied  Clare.    " Nobody  knows  where  he  is  or  where 


STIRLING.  185 

he  has  been.  It  is  quite  probable  that  he  has  two  or  three  wives 
already  in  the  outlandish  countries  he  has  visited.  He  looks  like 
a  regular  Bluebeard." 

The  innocent  object  of  this  vituperation  was  at  that  moment  in 
specting  the  horses  in  the  stable  of  the  "Castle"  inn.  He  selected 
a  steed  and  was  soon  cantering  down  the  street,  seeking  the  road 
that  led  to  Miss  Tamworth's  cottage.  A  short  distance  from  the 
town  a  lane  deflected  from  the  highway,  and  led  along  the  margin 
of  the  beautiful  Forth,  and  while  Barston  paused  at  the  junction 
of  the  roads  a  carriage  approached  from  the  opposite  direction, 
and  he  drew  his  horse  aside  to  give  it  passage.  A  child  in  the 
carriage  tossed  up  her  arms  with  a  cry  of  delight  at  the  sight  of 
him. 

'*  Cousin  Lacy !"  she  said,  "  take  me,  take  me !" 

"  My  Nellie  !  My  darling  1  Will  you  come  for  a  gallop  with 
me?" 

"  Yes !  yes !"  said  Nellie,  struggling  to  reach  him. 

He  took  her  in  his  arms,  and  restraining  his  restive  horse  he 
directed  Kitty  to  meet  them  at  the  same  spot  an  hour  later,  and 
then  turning  down  the  lane  was  out  of  sight  in  a  minute. 

"  I  thought  you  would  have  forgotten  me,  Nellie,"  he  said,  when 
he  drew  rein  after  a  gallop.  "  Why,  you  dear  little  witch,  you 
have  grown  a  foot  since  I  saw  you." 

"  Yes,"  said  Nellie,  "  I  grow  a  little  every  day.  Mamma  says  I 
may  have  a  little  pony  when  I  grow  two  more  feet.  But  I  like  to 
ride  Roland  with  you." 

•'  How  did  you  know  me  so  soon,  Nellie  ?" 

"  I  saw  your  eyes." 

"  Well,  other  people  have  eyes." 

"  Other  people  don't  have  your  eyes,"  answered  Nellie,  posi 
tively.  "  Your  eyes  say,  1 1  love  Nellie,'  and  Nellie  loves  you — 
darely  /" 

Swiss  covered  her  upturned  face  with  his  flowing  beard. 

"  You  shall  have  a  pony  before  you  grow  another  inch,  baby. 
I  saw  one  in  Mexico  that  will  just  suit  you.    I'll  go  back  for  it  if  - 
need  be." 

"  Don't  want  you  to  go  back.    I  can  ride  Roland  with  you." 

"  Then  I'll  get  you  a  Shetland.  Or  maybe  you  would  like  a 
donkey  ?  There  are  some  beautiful  donkeys  at  Clifton." 

"Don't  think  I  like  donkeys,"  said  Nellie,  doubtfully. 

"You  had  better  cultivate  the  liking,  baby.  Donkeys  are  very 
numerous.  But  we  will  try  for  the  Shetlauders." 


186  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Mamma  says  we  are  going  to  Clifton  soon,"  observed  Nellie. 
"  We  might  have  a  donkey  first." 

"  Very  well.  There  are  plenty  of  donkeys  on  the  Downs.  Now 
we  will  take  another  gallop.  This  brute  is  not  like  Roland." 

When  Mr.  Barston  reached  the  rendezvous  his  horse  was  minus 
a  shoe  and  limped  painfully.  He  relinquished  the  child  to  Kitty, 
catching  a  glimpse  of  her  countenance,  which  wore  a  troubled  ex 
pression,  arid  he  thought  she  looked  wistfully  at  him. 

"  What  is  it,  Kitty  P  he  said,  kindly.  She  placed  the  child  on 
the  seat,  and  stepping  out  of  the  carriage  came  near  his  stirrup. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Barston,"  she  said,  "  but  I  know  you 
are  a  lawyer,  and  I  know  you  will  tell  me  the  truth.  Please  tell 
me  what  makes  a  marriage  legal  in  Scotland." 

"  An  affirmation  before  witnesses — almost  any  form  of  state 
ment  will  be  binding.  But " 

"Excuse    me,   sir,  please.     Suppose  two  people  are  married 

before  witnesses  by  a  magistrate " 

"  They  are  as  firmly  married  as  if  by  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Lon 
don ." 

"  Suppose,"  said  Kitty,  again  interrupting  him,  "  suppose  they 
use  feigned  names'?  Suppose  they  call  themselves  by  other 
people's  names  P 

"  Well,"  said  Barston,  reflecting,  "  if  their  identity  can  be  estab 
lished  that  does  not  materially  alter  the  case ;  but  there  are  other 
consequences,  such  as  possible  prosecution  for  fraud.  It  is  never 
safe  to  tell  lies  of  any  sort." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  replied  Kitty,  returning  to  the  carriage.  "  I 
have  a  friend  who  is  very  anxious  to  know  the  law,  and  I  felt 
sure  you  could  tell  me.  Are  you  going  with  us,  sir  P 

"  No.  My  horse  is  lame.  I  must  return  to  the  inn  and  get  an 
other.  Besides,  Mr.  Harwood  is  in  Stirling  and  we  will  go  to 
gether.  Good  bye,  Nellie !" 

Arrived  at  the  "  Castle  "  Mr.  Barston  found  two  things  :  a  note 
from  the  rector,  who  had  gone  to  call  on  Mr.  Macdower,  the 
brother  of  the  Presbyterian  minister  at  Lavington ;  a  telegram 
from  Mrs.  Dawson,  saying  Tommy  was  seriously  hurt,  and  beg 
ging  his  honour  to  come  to  Eipple  Farm,  if  possible,  at  once. 


A   COMPAGNON  DE   VOYAGE.  187 

• 

CHAPTER    XXXV. 
A  COMPAGNON  DE  VOYAGE. 

"rpHESE  are  hard  lines,"  said  Swiss ;  "it  is  a  just  punishment 

J-  forlying.  I  told  Johnny  I  wished  to  come  here  to  see  Nellie ! 
I  have  seen  Nellie,  and  nobody  else !  They  are  going  to  the  Trossachs 
and  the  Lochs,  and  I  thought  I  might  go  with  them.  Tommy  is 
the  only  son  of  his  mother,  and  she  is  a  widow.  I  wonder  if  the 
whelp  has  dislocated  his  jaw  !  Poor  boy !  what  a  wretch  I  am  to 
talk  in  this  fashion.  Well !  The  only  atonement  is  to  start  by 
the  first  train.  Mrs.  Dawson  would  never  telegraph  unless  the 
case  were  serious.  Landlord!  Have  you  a  time  table?  When 
does  the  first  train  south  leave  Stirling  P 

"  In  twenty  minutes,  sir." 

"  I  am  called  away  suddenly.  Mr.  Harwood  will  not  be  back  in 
time.  Give  him  this  despatch.  Stay.  I  will  leave  a  note  for  him. 
While  I  write  please  get  me  a  cab,  and  put  my  portmanteau  in." 
He  sat  down  at  the  table  and  wrote  a  hurried  note,  enclosed  the 
telegram -in  it,  sealed  and  addressed  the  envelope,  paid  his  bill, 
got  into  the  cab,  and  readied  the  station  one  minute  before  the 
train  started.  And  while  Nellie  was  recounting  to  her  mother 
her  morning  adventures,  the  hero  of  them  was  gliding  along,  forty- 
five  miles  an  hour,  towards  Devonshire. 

The  porter  who  seized  his  portmanteau  and  rug  when  he  dashed 
into  the  ticket  office,  met  him  as  he  came  flying  out  again. 

"This  way,  sir!  Smoking?  Yes  sir!  First  class,  of  course, 
sir!  This  carriage,  sir !  All  to  yourself,  sir  ?  No,  sir!  One  other 
gent,  sir.  All  right,  sir !  Potmauto  under  the  seat,  sir !  Thankee 
sir !" 

Q^he  other  gent  was  in  the  opposite  corner.  He  had  his  rug  over 
his  shoulder,  concealing  the  lower  part  of  his  face,  while  his  wide- 
a-wake  hat  was  pulled  down  over  his  brows.  He  seemed  to  be 
asleep. 

Barstou  merely  glanced  at  his  fellow  traveller  to  see  if  he  was 
smoking.  The  train  had  come  from  above,  and  had  only  been  two 
or  three  minutes  in  the  station.  Probably  this  was  a  passenger 
from  farther  north.  Swiss  noticed  his  well-shaped  foot,  his  well- 
fitting  habiliments,  and  one  white  hand,  ungloved,  holding  the  rug 
over  his  breast. 


188  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Gentleman,  anyhow,"  he  muttered.  "  This  compartment  is  label 
ed  smoking,  so  I  need  not  apologize  if  I  blow  a  cloud.  1  wonder 
if  he  is  asleep  ?" 

He  was  soon  enveloped  in  blue  smoke.  At  the  next  station  a 
boy  clambered  up  to  the  window,  with  a  supply  of  yesterday's 
"Times."  Barston  bought  a  paper  and  read  steadily  till  there  was 
nothing  left  but  advertisements.  He  did  not  care  to  talk,  as  his 
mind  was  preoccupied,  but  he  looked  over  at  his  companion  once 
or  twice,  but  could  not  see  that  he  had  moved  a  muscle.  At  last 
they  rattled  into  the  station  at  Glasgow. 

"  Tickets,  please !"  said  the  guard ;  "  all  right,  sir !  Ticket,  sir !" 
and  he  passed  into  the  carriage.  The  sleeper  put  out  his  hand  as 
the  guard  approached. 

"  Lavington  !"  said  the  guard ; "  all  right,  sir.  This  carriage  goes 
through,  so  both  you  gentlemen  can  keep  your  seats." 

"Indeed!"  thought  Barston.  "I  wonder  if  my  compagnon  de 
voyage  is  going  to  sleep  all  the  way.  He  wakened  very  opportunely 
just  now,  though  I  cannot  see  that  he  has  moved  anything  but 
his  arm." 

An  hour  or  two  later  the  train  went  roaring  through  a  long  tun 
nel,  and  as  they  again  emerged  into  the  fading  sunlight,  Barston 
glanced  at  his  silent  companion.  He  had  half  turned  in  his  seat, 
and  the  rug  was  pulled  up  on  his  shoulder  and  across  his  breast, 
its  folds  covering  his  chin.  The  hat  was  still  lower  over  his  brow, 
and  nothing  was  visible  of  his  face  excepting  his  nose,  and  a 
thick  moustache  under  it.  He  had  roused  himself  sufficiently  to 
make  these  changes  while  they  were  in  the  darkness  of  the  tunnel. 

Barston  began  to  be  interested.  He  was  too  thorough  a  gentle 
man  to  evince  any  curiosity,  and  too  thorough  an  Englishman  to 
volunteer  conversation.  It  was  clear  that  the  other  did  not  desire 
an  interchange  of  civilities,  and  his  quiet  was  certainly  not  all  sleep. 

Through  another  long  tunnel,  and  in  Egyptian  darkness.  The 
train  was  running  slowly,  approaching  a  station.  Barston  detected 
the  odour  of  spirits,  and  heard  the  gurgling,  as  the  stranger  im 
bibed.  Then  there  came  the  flash  of  a  Vesuvius,  and  Swiss  saw 
by  its  glare  the  white  teeth  of  his  fellow  voyager  holding  his 
cigar.  A  puff  or  two  and  all  was  darkness  again.  As  the  train 
drew  out  of  the  tunnel  Barston  was  attracted  by  the  lights  in  the 
station,  and  when  he  looked  again  the  other  had  changed  his  seat 
and  was  now  oil  the  same  side  with  himself,  his  back  to  the  engine. 
The  rug  had  fallen  away  and  was  spread  over  his  knees,  but  his 


A   COMPAGNON  DE   VOYAGE.  189 

hat  was  cocked  over  to  the  right  and  his  hand  was  supporting  his 
head.  Nothing  was  visible  now  but  the  lurid  tip  of  his  cigar. 
Two  youngsters  got  into  the  carriage  as  the  train  stopped.  One 
took  the  seat  between  Swiss  and  the  quiet  traveller,  the  other  in 
the  opposite  corner.  The  guard  came  in,  inspected  tickets  again, 
and  as  he  departed  gave  his  final  instructions. 

"You  two  gents  wot  just  got  in  change  at  Brummagen.  This 
carriage  goes  through  to  Exeter." 

"  Lost  my  matches,  by  Jove  !"  said  the  one  in  the  corner.  "  May 
I  trouble  you  for  a  light,  sir  F 

"  Ya-as  !  I  guess  you  may,"  replied  the  stranger,  with  a  decided 
nasal  twang. 

"  That  is  intended  for  Yankee,"  said  Swiss  to  himself,  "  but  it  is 
overdone,  by  the  three  kings !  Now,  I  will  watch  this  fellow  if  I 
keep  awake  all  night  !" 

Watching  was  not  needed  very  long,  however.  The  new  comers 
talked  a  little,  sometimes  to  each  other  and  sometimes  to  Butler. 

"  You  are  from  America,  sir  F  said  he  who  had  obtained  the 
light. 

"  Ya-as." 

"  I  think  that  is  a  lie,"  said  Swiss  to  himself. 

"  Is  the  war  still  going  on,  sir  F 

"  Ya-as." 

"  How  long  have  you  been  in  England,  sir  F 

"  Came  a  week  or  two  ago,  I  guess." 

"  From  North  America,  sir  F 

"  Ya-as.    Noo  Yawk." 

"  I  say,  Dick,  this  gentleman  can  probably  tell  you  something 
about  Horace.  He  is  from  New  York.  Did  you  happen  to  know 
a  young  man  name  of  Scroggins — Horace  ScrogginsF 

"  Guess  not,"  replied  the  American  gentleman. 

"  That  is  very  strange.    He  went  to  New  York,  I  know." 

"  Wa-al,  there  are  about  a  million  inhabitants  in  that  village," 
responded  the  other.  "  I  calkilate  'twould  keep  a  man  busy  to  get 
acquainted  with  'em  all  in  a  life  time." 

"  I  think  you  would  have  noticed  Horace,  though,"  said  the 
young  man  after  a  little  pause — "  or  his  wife.  She  is  lovely !  She 
was  a  nurse-maid  in  his  mother's  house,  and  he  ran  off  to  Scotland 
with  her  and  was  married  there.  And  he  went  to  America  from 
Glasgow.  None  of  his  family  would  have  anything  to  do  with 
him  after  that  marriage." 


190  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Small  loss  to  him,"  said  the  other  fiercely,  forgetting  his  nasal 
twang.  "What  need  he  care  about  friends  or  family?  Nurse 
maid  !  I  have  known  nurse-maids  a  thousand  times  better  than 
your  stuck-up  countesses." 

"Butler!  by  the  three  kings!"  said  Swiss  inaudibly.  "No 
mistake  about  the  trill  of  those  r's.  What  a  rage  the  fellow  is  in. 
I  begin  to  understand  a  little.  He  has  been  marrying  Kitty,  and 
that  accounts  for  his  attachment  to  nurse-maids.  Poor  Kitty ! 
That  accounts  for  her  eager  questions,  also.  Why  should  he  marry 
her  under  a  feigned  name  ?  I  need  not  watch  any  more.  I'll  go 
to  sleep." 

He  wound  his  watch,  wrapped  his  rug  around  his  nether  limbs, 
and  propping  himself  up  in  his  cushioned  corner,  was  speedily 
walking  with  Ket  by  the  margin  of  murmuring  rivulets,  and  amid 
the  warblings  of  birds,  while  she  listened  with  eager  attention  to 
the  long,  long  story  of  his  love. 

He  was  wakened  at  last  by  the  stopping  of  the  train,  and  as  the 
porters  rushed  by  with  swinging  lanterns,  he  heard  them  cry  out 
the  name  of  the  station  next  to  Lavington.  Mr.  Butler  was  in  his 
corner,  awake  and  watchful. 

"  My  friend,"  said  Barston,  with  kindly  accents,  "  I  know  you.'' 

"  Do  you  f  replied  the  other. 

"  Yes.    You  married  Kitty  yesterday,  at  Stirling." 

Butler  started.  "  What  devil  are  you  in  agreement  with,"  said 
he,  "  that  you  know  all  I  do  as  soon  as  it  is  done  ?" 

"  Come,"  replied  Barston,  "  let  us  lay  aside  this  useless  antago 
nism.  You  have  married  the  girl  and  I  hope  you  will  be  kind  to 
her.  Do  you  object  to  the  interest  I  take  in  your  wife,  and  in  you 
for  her  sake  ?" 

"  What  do  you  purpose  now  f '  said  Butler,  after  a  pause. 

"  Nothing  that  you  do  not  approve.  If  you  will  allow  me  to 
help  you  in  any  plans  you  have  laid,  I  shall  be  glad  to  do  it.  What 
do  you  purpose  ?" 

"  I  am  going  to  America.  Mr.  Barston,  I  have  tried  to  hate  you, 
but  I  cannot.  You  have  thwarted  me  once  and  again,  but  I  have 
known  that  you  were  kind  in  it  all.  Now  that  I  have  married 
Kitty,  it  is  not  likely  that  you  will  care  to  trouble  me  more.  I 
have  no  definite  plans.  If  a  time  should  come  when  you  can  aid 
me,  I  will  apply  to  you."  He  ground  his  teeth  as  he  continued. 
"  Those  cursed  Harwoods  have  made  themselves  odious  to  me.  All 
of  them !  And  if  I  can  damage  any  of  them  hereafter,  I  warn  you 
that  I  shall  do  it!" 


A    COMTAGNON  DE   VOYAGE.  191 

"  We  cannot  be  friends,  then,"  replied  Barston  quietly.  "  Their 
enemies  are  iny  enemies.  If  you  were  not  under  the  blighting 
influence  of  some  wrong,  accomplished  or  intended — some  horrible 
crime,  1  fear — you  would  recognize  and  admire  the  nobleness  of 
Lord  Morton  and  his  family.  We  are  near  Lavington.  Let  me 
say  one  word  to  you.  I  am  a  lawyer.  Your  marriage  is  certainly 
legal,  but  you  run  the  risk  of  compromising  your  wife,  at  least,  by 
marrying  under  a  false  name  !" 

"  Who  dares  to  say  so?"  said  Butler  haughtily.  "  It  is  false! 
I  married  under  my  own  proper  name.  It  is  true  that  I  persuaded 
Kitty  to  call  herself  by  another  name.  But  what  do  you  know?" 

" Nothing— only  that  feigned  names  were  used.  No  matter! 
It  might  save  you  trouble  hereafter  if  you  correct  the  registry  and 
give  Kitty's  real  name.  It  is  no  business  of  mine,  and  I  only  warn 
you  for  your  own  sake.  Your  station  in  life  may " 

"  Don't  talk  to  me  of  names  and  stations.  If  I  go  to  America 
and  stay  there,  perhaps  I  can  make  another  name.  I  have  been 
there.  There  is  a  vast  empire  in  their  far  west,  where  a  man  may 
go  and  possibly  forget  his  previous  life.  All  of  mine  is  one  long, 
dismal  curse !" 

"Listen  to  me,"  said  Barston,  as  the  train  glided  into  the 
Lavington  station.  "  I  am  attracted  to  you  by  an  influence  that 
I  can  neither  understand  nor  resist.  If  you  have  done  wrong, 
surely  atonement  is  possible.  If  you  have  been  wronged,  I  will 
stand  by  you  with  name  and  fortune  until  you  are  righted.  Only 
confide  in  me,  and  let  me  befriend  you  if  it  is  possible." 

"  It  is  not  possible !"  replied  Butler,  with  cold  despair  in  his 
tones.  "  I  am  partly  criminal  and  partly  the  victim  of  the  wicked 
ness  of  others.  I  am  not  a  lawyer,  but  I  think  it  very  likely  that 
your  laws  would  take  my  life  from  me  for  a  dozen  violations  of 
them !  and  yet  my  crimes  are  so  covered  that  no  witness  of  any  of 
them  lives  upon  the  earth  !  I  wish  I  had  never  encountered  you. 
But  for  you  I  could  live  upon  my  hatred  of  the  race !  We  part 
here.  God  bless  you,  if  there  is  such  a  Being,  which  I  don't  be 
lieve  !" 

With  a  horrid  laugh  he  pushed  the  door  open,  stepped  out  upon 
the  platform  and  disappeared,  leaving  Barston  aghast  at  his  words 
and  manner. 


192  THE   LACY  DIAMONDS. 

CHAPTEE  XXXYI. 

THE  SECTOR'S  SCOTTISH  FRIEND. 

rr^HE  Reverend  John  Harwood  had  certain  mission  work  in 
JL  Lavington,  in  which  he  was  aided  by  the  Reverend  Andrew 
Macdower,  a  minister  of  the  Free  Church  of  Scotland,  who  had  a 
flourishing  congregation  in  that  village.  It  was  not  exactly  eccle 
siastical  work,  and  Mr.  Harwood  did  not  officially  engage  in  it,  as 
the  gulf  between  the  church  and  dissenters  was  too  wide  to  be 
bridged,  and  the  rector  did  not  care  to  engage  in  a  task  so  un 
promising  as  that  sort  of  architecture  would  prove.  The  pious 
antagonism  between  the  church  people  and  "the  others"  was 
latent  in  Lavington,  partly  because  Lord  Morton  was  a  dissenter 
and  partly  because  the  rector,  though  a  staunch  churchman,  was 
too  liberal  in  his  views  to  lead  an  assault  upon  the  works  of  Non 
conformity. 

Mr.  Macdower  was  a  scholar  of  rare  attainments,  and  as  Mr. 
Harwood  was  also  a  book-man,  they  readily  fell  into  a  warm  friend 
ship.  They  had  amicable  battles  over  their  sectarian  differences, 
while  their  creeds  were  identical  in  almost  every  particular.  For 
a  wonder  they  agreed  in  politics,  both  being  staunch  tories,  the 
rector  going  a  little  beyond  the  Scot,  of  course,  and  both  being 
annually  lectured  by  Lord  Morton,  who  was  a  liberal.  It  is 
worthy  of  note  that  the  scribblings  they  both  indulged  in  upon 
political  questions  were  published  in  papers  far  distant  from  Lav 
ington. 

On  the  day  of  his  departure  for  Stirling,  Mr.  Macdower  called 
upon  him  and  charged  him  with  messages  to  his  brother. 

"  You  must  hunt  up  Aleck,  Mr.  Harwood,"  he  said  j  "  you'll  find 
him  weel  up  in  modern  science.  It  would  pain  me  to  think  you 
had  been  to  Stirling  without  seeing  him." 

"  It  shall  be  my  first  business  when  I  get  there,"  said  the  rector. 
"  While  I  am  absent  I  rely  upon  you  to  watch  over  the  mill  school. 
Don't  allow  the  children  to  get  astray  in  the  mazes  of  dissent.  If 
you  choose  to  instruct  them  in  your  Westminster  theology  I  shall 
not  object,  provided  you  don't  dilute  it  with  your  modern  rubbish." 

"  Ay,  ay,"  responded  the  other  theologue  ;  "  if  we  can  only  get 
the  rising  generation  weel  instructed  in  the  Shorter  Catechism 
there  will  be  little  left  of  your  bloated  Establishment  twenty  years 
hence !" 


THE  RECTORS  SCOTTISH  FRIEND.  193 

When  Barston  was  gallopiug  011  the  bank  of  the  Forth,  Mr.  Har- 
wood  was  exploring  Stirling  Castle.  This  was  soon  disposed  of, 
and  as  his  engagement  with  Swiss  was  an  hour  later,  he  went  in 
search  of  Mr.  Alexander  Macdower,  magistrate.  That  worthy 
was  at  home,  and  received  his  visitor  with  the  courtly  grace  of  a 
Scottish  gentleman. 

"  I've  heard  so  much  of  you,  Mr.  Harwood,"  he  said,  "  from  my 
brother  Andy,  that  I  seem  to  know  you.  You  are  welcome  to  Stir 
ling,  sir,  and  I  suld  be  happy  if  you  would  make  my  house  your 
home  during  your  stay." 

"  I  thank  you,  Mr.  Macdower,  but  I  leave  to-day.  My  sister  is 
in  the  neighbourhood,  and  I  hope  to  accompany  her  through  your 
lake  country.  I  left  your  brother  in  good  health,  and  have  mes 
sages  to  deliver  about  sundry  matters.  He  desires  me  to  say, 
first,  that  the  last  speech  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  is  a  failure." 

"And  you  can  just  tell  him  that  be  has  no'  made  an  original 
discovery  in  yon  direction.  I  have  heard  abune  a  dozen  ignorant 
cadgers  say  the  same  thing!" 

The  rector  laughed.  "  That  is  a  capital  answer,  and  I  shall  not 
forget  it.  We  parted  in  a  fight  and  he  had  the  last  shot.  He 
thinks  the  Westminster  Confession  contains  all  the  theology  that 
man  needs  to  steer  clear  of  rocks  and  quicksands." 

"He  is  no'  far  wrang,"  replied  Mr.  Macdower ;  "may  be  ye 
had  better  tackle  Andy  on  some  ither  subject." 

"Do  you  swallow  the  entire  Confession,  Mr.  Macdower?" 

"  I  diuna  say  that !  The  Confession  is  no'  inspired,  ye  ken,  but 
it  is  a  safe  body  o'  divinity.  It  says  some  things  aboot  the 
creation  that  may  be  a  little  dubious.  May  I  offer  your  reverence 
a  wee  taste  o'  Scotch  whusky  F 

"  Many  thanks,  sir,  but  I  must  decline.  My  limited  knowledge 
of  that  beverage  induces  me  to  dislike  it  thoroughly !" 

"  Weel,"  said  the  Scot,  "  de  gustibus  non  est  disputandum,  ye  ken. 
If  ye  canna  appreciate  Scotch  whusky  your  education  has  been 
neglected." 

"It  tastes,"  said  the  rector  with  a  shudder,  "like  turpentine 
diluted  with  peat  smoke." 

"  There  was  a  chap  from  your  country,"  replied  the  magistrate, 
"  that  I  married  the  morn,  who  tuk  a  nip  without  blinkin' !" 

"  Married  1"  exclaimed  Mr.  Harwood.  "  Oh,  I  forgot  your 
Scottish  law.  Do  you  find  the  warrant  for  Scottish. marriages  in 

your  Confession,  also  F 

13 


194  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Nay.  It  is  a  ceevil  contract,  ye  ken,  and  is  binding  if  per 
formed  by  a  magistrate.  I  am  weel  aware  that  you  churchmen 
look  upon  it  as  a  sort  o'  sacrament." 

"  Not  quite,"  replied  the  rector,  "  but  we  think  it  is  more  than  a 
civil  contract.  And  so  do  you,  I  am  sure.  You  say  it  was  a 
countryman  of  mine  whom  you  made  happy  this  morning  *P 

"  I  didna'  say  anything  aboot  the  happiness.  The  leddy  was 
no'  ill-looking,  but  she  had  that  composed  appearance  which  in 
dicated  a  decided  wull  of  her  ain.  She  will  be  apt  to  rule  yon 
chap  in  spite  of  his  beard,  and  he  has  plenty  o'  that.  I  didna 
notice  her  much,  as  I  was  attracted  by  her  diamonds.  Hoot, 
mon  !  but  she  had  a  brooch  on  her  neck  worth  twa  thousand 
punds,  I  should  say !" 

"Indeed!"  said  Mr.  Harwood,  rising  and  drawing  on  his  gloves. 
"  Was  it  a  single  stone  f 

"Nay!  It  was  composed  of  three  stanes.  They  were  held  by 
delicate  gold  work  in  the  shape  of  lilies.  The  diamonds  were  set 
in  the  mouths  of  the  flowers." 

The  rector  sat  down  again. 

"Do  you  happen  to  remember  her  name  f  he  asked,  gradually 
getting  himself  in  hand,  as  he  instinctively  felt  that  an  astound 
ing  revelation  was  imminent. 

"  Ay  !  I  remember  Sir  Walter's  lines  : 

"  Tarn  worth  tower  and  town ;" 

it  was  Miss  Clare  Tarn  worth." 

"  I  have  a  curiosity  to  taste  that  whisky,"  said  the  rector,  "  if 
not  too  troublesome." 

The  host  produced  a  decanter  and  glasses  with  a  celerity  that 
was  admirable.  Mr.  Harwood  poured  out  about  a  gill,  and  with 
a  polite  bow  to  the  magistrate,  swallowed  it.  While  he  coughed 
and  choked,  the  Scot  allowed  a  similar  quantity  to  glide  down 
his  throat,  a  drop  at  a  time. 

"  Ye'll  never  learn  to  drink  Scotch  whusky,"  said  he,  discon 
tentedly,  "  if  ye  bolt  it  in  you  fashion.  It  is  a  cruel  waste  o'  raw 
material !" 

"  Raw  enough  !"  muttered  the  poor  rector. 

"  Pardon  me,  my  dear  sir !"  said  Mr.  Macdower  suddenly,  "  I 
didna  see  that  you  were  ill !  Your  cheeks  are  the  colour  of  your 
cravat !  Tak'  another  drop  o'  the  dew." 

"  I  am  getting  better,  I  thank  you,"  said  Mr.  Harwood.  "  Did 
you  say  whom  it  was  that  the  lady  married  ?" 


THE  EEC  TORS  SCOTTISH  FRIEND.  195 

"Ay !  a  Master  Lacy.  I  dinna  mind  his  baptismal  appellation. 
Some  outlandish  name.  He  was  in  an  unco'  hurry  to  catch  the 
southern  train." 

"  I  must  go,  I  think.    This  gentleman  was  an  Englishman " 

"Ay!  from  Lavington,  he  said.  Must  you  go,  sir?  I  am 
proud  to  have  made  your  acquaintance,  sir,"  and  as  the  rector 
descended  the  steps  he  muttered,  "  deil  tak'  the  mon!  that  shot  o' 
raw  whusky  was  too  much  for  him!  He  is  no'  accustomed  to  it, 
he  said,  yet  he  tossed  it  off  like  a  wild  Hielandman!" 

The  Parson  found  Barston's  note  when  he  returned  to  the 
"  Castle  Inn.''  When  he  opened  the  envelope  the  enclosure  fell  out. 
It  was  a  telegram  from  Mrs.  Dawson,  Lavington,  Devon,  to  Mr. 
Lacy  Barston,  Stirling,  Scotland.  "Tommy  is  very  seriously 
hurt,  perhaps  dangerously.  Can  your  honour  come  to  Ripple 
Farm  immediately  ?  He  asks  for  you  anxiously."  Barston's  note 
was  as  follows : 

"  MY  DEAR  JOHNNY — The  enclosed  telegram  will  tell  you  all 
that  I  know.  I  start  immediately  for  Lavington.  It  is  a  very 
sore  disappointment,  but  we  cannot  resist  Providence.  Please 
explain  to  the  ladies  the  cause  of  my  hasty  departure.  If  Tommy 
is  not  fatally  hurt  I  will  return  in  a  few  days.  Leave  the  plan  of 
your  proposed  route  at  the  inn,  or  telegraph  me  at  Laviugtou.  I 
feel  like  Moore's  '  Peri,'  who  got  a  glimpse  of  paradise  and  then 
had  the  door  slam'd  in  her  face! — Affectionately  yours, 

"LACY  BARSTON." 

"  This  is  wholly  inexplicable !"  said  the  rector.  "  I  am  bewildered. 
Treachery?  It  is  impossible!  I  would  not  believe  Swiss  guilty 
of  wrong  if  I  saic  him  doing  it.  I  should  think  it  an  optical 
illusion.  But  he  has  married  Clare  Tarn  worth,  or  I  am  mad!  or 
that  Scotch  rascal  was  drunk!  The  wisest  thing  to  do  will  be  to 
see  her  and  ask  her  what  it  means.  Married !  And  I  have  come 
here  solely  to  ask  her  to  be  my  wife !  Are  there  two  Clare  Tarn- 
worths  ?" 

The  unhappy  Parson  got  into  a  cab,  and  drove  to  Miss  Tarn- 
worth's  cottage  as  rapidly  as  the  Scotch  cabby,  inspired  by  an 
extra  shilling,  could  make  his  horse  go.  The  ladies  were  at  lunch 
eon.  As  Miss  Tarn  worth  came  forward  to  welcome  him,  he  was 
the  three  lilies  Ida/ing  iu  licr  collar.  The  reader  need  hardly  be 
told  that  Kitty  ran  to  her  patroness  at  onco  with  the  story  of  licr 
marriage,  and  Clare  took  the  brooch  and  pinned  it  in  her  owu 


196  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

dress  for  safety.  As  the  rector  glanced  at  the  jewels,  he  remem 
bered  some  quaint  rhyme  he  had  heard  in  his  young  days,  and 
shuddered. 

Bet,  the  dear,  sensible  woman,  placed  a  chair  for  Johnny  next 
to  Clare,  and  taking  her  luncheon  as  fast  as  she  could,  excused  her 
self  and  left  them  at  the  table.  She  thought  Johnny  wanted  Clare 
and  she  almost  thought  that  Clare  wanted  the  rector.  Her  good 
ness  can  be  better  appreciated  when  it  is  remembered  that  nothing 
had  been  said  about  Bar&ton's  non-appearance,  and  she  was  de 
voured  by  a  raging  desire  to  know  how  he  would  greet  her  at  their 
next  meeting.  Miss  Tamworth  was  too  full  of  Kitty's  secret,  just 
revealed  to  her,  and  also  possessed  by  a  secret  consciousness  of 
the  rector's  attachment,  and  all  her  faculties  were  employed  in 
maintaining  an  air  of  utter  unconsciousness,  of  course.  So  she 
forgot  Barston's  existence.  Lady  Lacy  never  mentioned  his  name 
at  all.  And  the  Eector  was  piously  whispering  to  himself  that 
"  there  was  certainly  some  curse  about  those  infernal  Lacy  Dia 
monds  !" 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

Miss  CLARE'S  EXPLANATIONS. 

npHE  Eeverend  John  Harwood  sat  moodily  sipping  pale  ale, 
-L  while  his  companion  nibbled  daintily  at  a  cake.  They  were 
a  very  handsome  couple,  having  considerable  liking  each  for  the 
other,  and  it  is  a  horrid  shame  to  leave  them  playing  at  cross  pur 
poses.  Each  looked  conscious.  Parson  Johnny  was  thinking 
of  the  speeches  he  had  composed  between  Lavington  and  Stir 
ling,  and  which  he  had  thought  out,  very  much  as  he  "  thought 
out"  his  sermons,  with  due  reference  to  the  orderly  sequence 
of  the  argument.  And,  oddly  enough,  he  was  reminded  of  a 
funeral  discourse  he  had  recently  prepared,  to  be  delivered  on 
the  Sunday  following  the  obsequies  of  a  dying  parishioner,  and 
which  was  totally  lost  for  the  nonce,  in  consequence  of  the  fellow's 
unexpected  recovery.  It  is  true  that  he  still  had  the  sermon,  but 
there  was  no  certainty  that  it  would  be  available  when  his  parish 
ioner  did  die,  as  the  circumstances  might  be  entirely  different. 

Miss  Clare  was  burdened  with  Kitty's  secret.    There  was  enough 
romance  about  the  whole  story  of  her  marriage  to  cover  all  the 


MISS  CLARE'S  EXPLANATIONS.  197 

objectionable  features.  The  bridegroom  had  enjoined  present 
secrecj*  upon  Kitty,  alleging  family  reasons,  and  this  fact,  coupled 
with  Mr.  Butler's  distingue  appearance  in  his  fashionable  attire, 
satisfied  Miss  Tamworth  that  his  claims  of  gentle  breeding  wer^ 
well  founded.  Kitty  herself  was  considerably  flustered,  and  her 
story  of  the  unexpected  meeting  with  Butler,  and  the  sudden 
proposition,  the  hurried  ceremony,  and  the  assumption  of  a  feigned 
name  (which  Kitty  did  not  reveal) — her  subsequent  interview  with 
Mr.  Barston  and  his  assurance  of  the  legality  of  the  marriage — all 
these  were  jumbled  up  in  inextricable  confusion.  Moreover,  Miss 
Clare  somehow  associated  this  rapid  change  of  relations,  and  the 
status  of  wifehood,  with  the  rector's  appearance  upon  the  scene, 
and  wondered  what  she  should  say  if  Mr.  Harwood  made  kindred 
proposals  to  her. 

"  What  has  become  of  Mr.  Barston  P  she  said,  at  length.  "  "We 
expected  to  see  him  with  you." 

The  rector  handed  her  the  note  which  Swiss  had  left,  and 
watched  her  furtively  while  she  read  it. 

"  He  would  make  a  very  indifferent  sort  of  Peri,  I  imagine,"  she 
said  coolly,  refolding  the  note.  "  Is  Tommy  the  young  man  we 
saw  at  Ripple  FarmU  I  mean  the  one  with  a  mouth." 

"  Yes.    I  think  he  has  a  mouth,"  replied  the  Parson. 

"  You  are  so  charmingly  lively  this  morning,"  said  Miss  Clare 
with  some  asperity,  "that  you  must  have  attended  a  funeral 
recently !" 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  Mr.  Harwood,  "I  am  just  from  the 
scene  of  a  wedding !" 

Miss  Tamworth  started. 

"And  the  bride  wore  a  brooch  very  similar  to  that  you  have  in 
your  collar !" 

Miss  Tamworth  blushed.    Matters  were  growing  serious. 

"  I  am  overwhelmed,  Miss  Clare.  I  beg  your  pardon,  madame. 
I  meant  to  say,  that  this  whole  business  was  so  totally  unexpected, 
and  the  secrecy  and  haste,  and  all  the  circumstances,  shocking  to 
my  mind,  that  I  may  be  pardoned  it'  I  violate  ordinary  rules  of 
politeness.  I  called  at  the  magistrate's,  Mr.  Macdower's,  by  acci 
dent  this  morning,  and  he  told  me  of  the  marriage  and  the  names 
of  the  happy  pair.  Indeed,  his  description  of  the  brooch  convinced 
me  that  the  bride  came  from  this  house,  and  I  did  not  need  to  hear 
any  names !  J  suppose  I  have  no  right  to  complain — but  I  cannot 
but  feel  that  I  have  been  treated  with  little  consideration." 


198  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  I  am  very  sorry  to  bear  you  say  so,"  said  Miss  Clare,  brushing 
away  the  tears  that  started  to  her  eyes. 

"  Forgive  ine  if  I  pain  you !"  said  the  miserable  rector.  "  It  was 
far  from  my  purpose.  I  would  have  thought,  however,  that  you 
held  truer  views  of  the  marriage  relation  than,  to  regard  it  as  a 
mere  civil  contract,  to  be  certified  by  a  magistrate !" 

"  It  was  not  my  doing,  Mr.  Harwood.  It  I  had  dreamed  that 
you  would  so  regard  it " 

"Oh,  Clare!" 

"  Mr.  Barston  says,"  she  continued  hurriedly,  "  that  the  mar 
riage  is  entirely  legal.  I  had  not  thought  of  what  you  suggest, 
but  I  know  you  are  right,  and  I  think  I  may  promise  to  have  the 
ceremony  duly  performed  in  church  when  we  go  back  to  England. 
It  will  be  only  a  week  or  two .  What  is  it,  Nellie  *P 

Nellie,  who  had  suddenly  burst  into  the  room,  clutched  a  good 
wedge  of  cake  and  filled  her  little  mouth.  Then  she  climbed  up 
on  her  uncle's  knees,  kissed  him,  tilling  his  whiskers  and  bosom 
with  crumbs,  and  when  she  had  bolted  the  cake  stated  her  busi 
ness. 

"  Where  is  Cousin  Lacy  ?  He  said  he  was  coming  wid  you, 
Uncle  Johnny." 

"  He  has  gone  to  Lavington,  baby,"  replied  the  rector.  "  Here 
is  his  note ;  take  it  to  your  mamma." 

Nellie  took  the  letter  and  slid  down  to  the  floor.  She  took 
another  wedge  of  cake,  and  deliberately  munched  and  swallowed, 
apparently  at  the  constantly  recurring  risk  of  strangulation,  in 
tently  regarding  her  uncle  and  Miss  Tarn  worth  as  if  she  would  read 
their  secret  souls.  They  were  both  conscious  of  certain  discomfort 
under  this  watchful  scrutiny.  Then  she  shook  the  letter  at  them, 
gravely  nodding  her  pretty  head,  and  fairly  overwhelmed  them 
with  her  parting  observation  : 

"  I  know  what  it  all  means !"  she  said  with  calm  triumph  in  her 
voice  and  manner — "Donkeys!"  and  she  stalked  majestically  out 
of  the  room. 

"  I  cannot  say  that  Nellie  is  very  complimentary !"  observed 
Miss  Tain  worth. 

"  No !  but  so  far  as  her  last  observation  applied  to  me  she  was 
very  nearly  right !  It  appears  to  me  that  I  must  look  very  much 
like  a  donkey.  I  certainly  feel  like  one,  and  shall  look  out  ibr  this 
tles  as  my  regular  fare  hereafter."  He  brushed  the  crumbs  from 
his  dress,  rose  from  the  table,  and  took  his  hat  and  gloves. 


MISS  CLARE'S  EXPLANATIONS.  190 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  remain  with  us  to-day,  Mr.  Harwood  ? 
You  know  we  go  to  the  Trossaclis  to-morrow." 

"  Alas !"  said  the  rector,  "  I  must  forego  the  pleasure  1  had 
promised  myself.  I  must  give  up  this  excursion  and  return  to 
Lavingtou  and  try  to  find  comfort  in  the  performance  of  my  stated 
duties.  It  would  be  utterly  false  in  me  to  pretend  that  this  morn 
ing's  business  was  of  so  little  moment  to  me."  lie  spoke  with 
quiet  dignity  and  composure,  and  Clare  began  to  grow  angry. 

"  Really,  Mr.  Harwood  !"  she  said,  "  I  cannot  see  that  you  have 
cause  for  this  distress.  A  marriage  has  been  celebrated,  and  the 
gentleman  most  interested  says  there  are  weighty  reasons  for  the 
informality  and  secrecy.  All  the  forms  required  by  law  have  been 
observed,  and  the  people  are  married — hopelessly,  if  you  like.  If 
you  and  Ret,  with  your  inveterate  Harwood  obstinacy— pray  par 
don  me ! — will  still  nurse  your  opposition " 

"Say  no  more !"  interrupted  the  Parson.  "  If  you  think  I  have 
no  cause  to  complain  I  am  thankful !  It  is  so  much  relief  at  least. 
Will  you  please  make  my  excuses  to  Ret  ?  It  will  only  be  necessary 
to  say  that  I  liud  my  clerical  duties  call  me  home  at  once.  Good 
bye  !  I  hope  I  need  not  say  that  I  wish  you  all  the  happiness 
that  is  attainable  in  this  world  and  the  next!"  He  took  her  hand, 
pressed  it  and  was  gone. 

She  watched  him  walking  rapidly  down  the  path  until  he  turned 
into  the  highway.  Then  she  ran  up  into  Lady  Lacy:s  room  with 
streaming  eyes.  Ret  was  on  the  sofa  just  finishing  the  fourteenth 
perusal  of  Mr.  Barston's  note,  which  she  slipped  into  her  pocket 
with  a  guilty  blush  as  her  friend  entered. 

"  Why,  Clare !  My  dear,  dear  Clare,  what  has  happened  I 
Where  is  Johnny?" 

"  Gone  away,  inebriated,  I  think ;  that  is,  I  hope  he  is !  He  drank 
enough  of  that  pale  ale  to  make  three  men  drunk !  He  has  been 
doing  nothing  since  you  left  but  drinking  ale  and  talking  like  a 
lunatic !  I  think  it  is  awfully  horrid  for  a  clergyman  to  get  into 
such  a  state !  He  is  off  to  Lavington,  telling  some  preposterous 
story  about  his  clerical  duties.  A  nice  state  ho  will  be  in  to  per 
form  clerical  duties !  He  will  have  delirium-thingamy  on  the 
route,  no  doubt.  Oh,  Ret!  I  could  tear  his  eyes  out,  and  cry  out 
my  own !" 

"My  dear!"  said  Ret,  with  wondering  anxiety,  "tell  me  what 
it  means  !  what  did  Johnny  say  T 

"  Say !    Who  could  tell  ichat  he  said,  with  his  tongue  so  thick 


200  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

with  ale.  He  has  gone,  I  tell  you — gone  after  that  precious  Peri ! 
Ha !  ha !"  aiid  she  laughed  hysterically  through  her  tears. 

"Clare!"  said  Lady  Lacy,  "you  distress  me  very  much.  Can 
you  not  give  me  a  coherent  account  of  your  interview  ?" 

"  Indeed  I  cannot,  Eet !  I  hardly  know  how  it  began  or  ended. 
Mr.  Harwood  took  me  to  task  like  a  raging  hyena,  only  because  I 
happened  to  know  about  a  certain  matter,  told  me  in  confidence ! 
He  found  it  out  by  accident,  and  why  he  should  have  raved  at  poor 
me  so  venomously,  I  cannot  imagine !  He  would  not  allow  me  to 
say  one  word,  in  defence  or  explanation.  Here,  Eet!  take  your 
brooch !  I  verily  believe  those  horrid  Lacy  Diamonds  are  haunted !" 

"This  mystery  is  very  vexatious,  observed  Eet!" 

"  Oh,  those  horrid  men !"  said  Miss  Tarn  worth,  with  a  vicious 
shudder.  "Eet,  my  darling,  let  us  go  into  a  nunnery !  We  shall 
thus  get  rid  of  Parsons  and  Peris  and  live  at  peace!  Your  brother 
is  the  most  ill-tempered  man  I  ever  saw !  I  am  not  at  all  certain 
that  he  did  not  swear!" 

"  I  am  sure  you  are  not  telling  stories,  Clare,"  replied  Lady  Lacy, 
"  yet  if  anybody  else  should  tell  me  that  Johnny  was  intoxicated, 
and  in  a  rage,  and  indulging  in  profane  language,  I  don't  think  I 
could  believe  the  statement.  I  never  knew  him  to  be  in  a  rage  in 
my  life!  and  as  for  swearing!  Oh,  what  would  Mother  say!" 

"  There,  there !"  said  Miss  Tamworth — "  you  need  not  trumpet 
the  matter  all  over  the  world !  Of  course  he  did  not  swear !  I 
was  joking  about  that.  Heigho !  I  don't  feel  much  like  joking, 
either.  You  did  not  believe  that  nonsense  about  the  ale.  I  only 
meant  to  say  that  he  did  not  eat  any  luncheon.  Something  has 
happened  to  upset  him,  and  he  has  gone  after  Mr.  Barston  to  get 
comfort.  The  Peri !  Eet !  how  do  you  suppose  he  would  look 
with  wings,  flopping  about  the  gate  of  Paradise !  What  in  the 
world  do  you  suppose  the  lunatic  means,  by  his  l  glimpse  of  Para 
dise?'" 


CHAPTEE    XXXYIII. 
PHRENOLOGICAL,. 

ME.  BAESTONhad  a  friend  in  London,  who  had  been  his  pre 
ceptor,  in  his  medical  studies,  and  wbo  was  a  man  of  very 
extensive  information  and  experience.     In  the  scanty  time  between 
the  receipt  of  Mrs.  Dawson's  telegram  and  his  departure  from  Stir- 


PHRENOLOGICAL.  201 

ling,  Barston  managed  to  write  a  despatch,  beseeching  Dr.  Cardon 
to  meet  him  at  Lavington,  to  "  attend  a  very  serious  surgical  case7* 
in  the  neighbourhood.  Doctor  Cardon  had  the  same  sort  of  appe 
tite  for  surgical  cases  that  a  child  has  for  sugar-plums,  or  a  critic 
for  the  gore  of  authors,  and  Barstou  cunningly  worded  his  des 
patch  so  as  to  make  the  feast  as  attractive  as  possible.  The  train 
from  London  arrived  at  Lavington  at  the  same  hour  with  Barston's 
train,  and  he  met  the  doctor  on  the  platform,  in  the  station. 

"My  dear  doctor,"  he  said,  shaking  his  hand,  "this  is  kind  of 
you.  I  am  much  interested  in  the  poor  boy,  and  was  not  willing 
to  trust  him  in  less  skilful  hands.  Leave  your  luggage  with  the 
porter " 

"Luggage!"  answered  Dr.  Cardon,  while  he  collected  various 
cases  in  a  pile — "luggage!  You  did  not  tell  me  what  sort  of  a 
case  it  was,  so  I  have  brought  all  my  instruments !" 

Barston  had  enough  esprit  de  corps  to  know  that  the  doctor 
would  entrust  those  precious  cases  to  a  porter  about  as  soon  as  a 
young  mother  would  leave  her  baby  in  charge  of  a  gorilla.  Accord 
ingly  he  assisted  the  doctor,  while  they  were  being  transferred  to 
a  cab,  handling  the  nicely  polished  boxes  with  great  tenderness. 
When  they  arrived  at  the  inn  Barston  proposed  that  they  should 
leave  the  instruments  in  the  cab  while  they  partook  of  breakfast. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it !"  said  Dr.  Cardon,  "  bring  'em  in !  Who  caii 
tell  whether  that  brute  of  a  horse  will  bolt  or  not  f 

When  they  were  bowling  along  the  Exeter  road  under  the  level 
rays  of  the  morning  sun,  the  doctor  asked  Barston  to  "  describe 
the  case."  Mr.  Barston  knew  nothing  beyond  the  fact  that  Tommy 
was  seriously  hurt,  and  the  surgeon  made  himself  as  comfortable 
as  he  could,  in  his  corner  of  the  cab,  and  fell  asleep.  He  dreamed 
of  dislocated  limbs  and  of  amputations,  of  delightful  hours  in  hos 
pitals  and  dissecting  rooms,  of  saws,  and  knives,  and  tourniquets, 
and  when  the  cab  stopped  at  Hippie  Farm  he  awoke,  refreshed 
and  cheerful. 

It  required  very  little  time  to  get  the  facts.  Tommy  had  pro 
jected  a  visit  to  Jenny  Potter,  the  daughter  of  a  fisherman  on  the 
coast.  As  Master  Lacy  could  go  down  to  the  beach  over  the  rocks 
Tommy  thought  he  could  do  likewise,  although  forbidden,  and 
missing  his  footing,  he  had  rolled  down  to  the  beach,  and  was 
brought  home  on  a  shutter.  Some  bones  were  broken,  and  Doctor 
Holly  had  repaired  the  damage  in  that  direction.  Tommy  was  a 
mere  bundle  of  splints.  He  besought  his  mother  to  send  for  Mas-- 


202  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

ter  Lacy,  when  lie  was  first  brought  home,  and  she  had  yielded  to 
fiis  urgeiicy,  and  telegraphed  to  Stirling.  Since  the  despatch  was 
sent  Tommy  had  been  in  a  stupor,  and,  when  Dr.  Cardon  arrived, 
he  was  totally  unconscious. 

With  practiced  hands  the  doctor  felt  the  ribs  and  spine  of  the 
patient.  These  were  unhurt.  One  arm  was  broken  and  a  small 
bone  in  one  leg,  and  Dr.  Holly  had  done  all  that  was  needful  iu 
setting  and  splinting  and  had  "  left  the  case."  His  brother  prac 
titioner  rather  objected  to  interfere,  although  assured  by  Mrs. 
Dawson  that  he  had  left  Tommy  that  morning,  saying  he  could  do 
no  more. 

"  Do  you  know  where  he  went  P  asked  Barston. 

"Yes,  sir;  he  has  gone  to  Mr.  Bottomry's." 

lt  It  is  only  a  mile  or  two,"  said  Barstou.  "  I  will  go  after  him 
and  bring  him  back.  Eoland  is  here  j  is  he  not,  Mrs.  Dawson  P 

"  Yes,  sir ;  but  there  is  no  one  here  to  saddle  him." 

"  I  will  find  some  one,"  answered  Barstou,  moving  to  the  door. 
"  Doctor,  wait  for  me  half  an  hour  or  so."  ' 

While  Swiss  was  absent  Doctor  Cardon  opened  some  of  his 
cases  a -d  "polished  off"  several  ferocious  implements  with  a 
chamois  skin.  Mrs.  Dawson  looked  on  with  dumb  horror.  She 
had  a  vague  idea  that  Tommy  would  be  taken  apart  and  set  up 
afresh  when  t'other  saw  bones  arrived.  Within  an  hour  Dr.  Holly's 
gig  rattled  up  and  he  and  Barston  reappeared  in  the  sick  room. 

Dr.  Garden's  reputation  as  a  surgeon  was  so  well  established 
that  Barston's  apologies  for  bringing  him  were  unnecessary.  The 
other  was  very  glad  to  divide  the  responsibility  of  the  case  with  a 
gentleman  of  Dr.  Garden's  fame.  Mrs.  Dawson  withdrew  at  a 
hint  from  Barston,  and  as  he  was  a  quasi  medico,  both  of  the  "  reg 
ulars  "  begged  him  to  remain  at  the  consultation. 

"  You  will  have  the  advantage  of  a  very  instructive  clinic,  Bar 
ston,"  said  Garden.  u  Do  you  remember  the  fellow  in  the  Vienna 
hospital,  who  was  brought  in  reduced  to  a  pulp  P 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  this  case  is  very  similar.  The  boy  has  had  an  ugly 
knock  on  the  head." 

"  Several  of  them,"  observed  Dr.  Holly. 

"  Yes,  doctor,"  replied  the  London  surgeon,  "  and  you  have 
dressed  them  all  as  skilfully  as  mortal  man  could  do  it :  that  is, 
all  except  one." 

.  "  I  examined  the  cranium  very  carefully,"  said  Dr.  Holly.  "  I 
have  shaved  his  head,  you  see." 


PHRENOLOGICAL.  203 

"Yes;  and  one  strip  of  adhesive  plaster  is  over  the  right  organ 
of  aliinentiveness." 

"  Pardon  me  ! "  said  Dr.  Holly,  stiffly.  "  I  do  not  know  the 
locality  you  name  !" 

"Ah  !"  said  Cardon,  "you  miss  a  groat  deal,  doctor,  by  reject 
ing  phrenology.  Now  in  my  first  examination  of  this  youth  I  was 
ver3'  much  struck  with  the  splendid  development  of  his  masticat 
ing  organs.  Look  at  this  process  !  It  is  a  jaw  that  would  crush 
gravel  stones!  and  his  mouth  is  big  enough  to  take  in  a  sucking 
pig  at  a  bite  !  Now  nature  never  does  things  by  halves.  Know 
ing  this  fact,  and  believing  in  phrenology,  I  was  enabled  to  discover 
an  injury  that  escaped  you,  and  no  wonder,  as  you  don't  believe  in 
phrenology  !" 

"I  am  still  entirely  in  the  dark  1"  said  Dr.  Holly. 

"Of  course!  Don't  be  restless,  Barston.  The  boy  is  just  as 
comfortable  as  an  unborn  infant.  He  is  comatose,  owing  to  a 
small  fragment  of  bone  pressing  upon  the  dura-mater!" 

Dr.  Holly  started. 

"  Allow  me  to  finish  my  explanation,"  continued  Cardon ;  "  when 
I  found  this  maxillary,"  touching  Tommy's  jaw  lightly  with  his 
finger,  "  and  this  mighty  opening  for  the  reception  of  nutriment,  I 
immediately  inferred  that  nature  had  a  corresponding  develop 
ment  of  the  organ  of  aliinentiveness,  and  as  the  right  lobe  was 
fortunately  in  view,  I  looked  in  the  proper  spot,  and  the  develop 
ment  was  wanting  !" 

"  Very  possibly !"  said  Dr.  Holly,  dryly. 

"  Very  impossibly,  my  dear  sir !"  returned  Dr.  Cardon.  "  It 
would  have  been  abnormal !  Not  finding  the  organ  well  marked 
on  the  right  side  I  examined  the  left.  If  you  will  take  the  trouble 
to  look,  doctor,  you  will  perceive  a  decided  protuberance  on  this 
side  !  Come  look,  Barston  !" 

"  I  thought  that  was  a  bump  !"  said  Dr.  Holly. 

"  So  it  is,  my  dear  sir,  vulgarly  so  called.  I  call  it  a  phreno 
logical  protuberance !" 

"  I  mean,"  said  Holly,  testily,  "  that  I  took  it  for  a  contusion." 

"Ah!  my  dear  sir,  the  contusion  is  on  the  other  side,  and  has 
made  a  depression  which  was  totally  indistinguishable  except  by 
the  aid  of  phrenological  science!  See!  I  remove  the  plaster, 
with  your  permission.  Now,  doctor,  please  place  your  finger 
here.  Ah  !  have  I  your  permission  to  do  a  little  trepanning!" 

"  Undoubtedly,"  said  the  other,  overwhelmed.  The  London 
doctor,  smacking  his  lips,  clutched  his  glittering  weapons,  and 


204  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

deftly  Sawing  a  small  hole  in  Tommy's  head,  picked  out  sundry 
splinters  of  bone,  and  rapidly  dressed  the  wound. 

"I  am  going  back  to  London  by  the  first  train,"  he  said  coolly, 
as  he  repolished  his  implements  and  restored  them  to  their  velvet 
couches.  "  Keally,  Barston,  this  has  been  a  very  interesting  case. 
Nothing  more  is  needed.  The  young  man  will  be  entirely  con 
scious  presently,  and  he  could  not  be  in  better  hands  than  Dr. 
Holly's.  My  dear  doctor,  it  was  simply  impossible  for  you  to 
guess  at  that  little  injury,  and  I  assure  you  my  discovery  is  all  due 
to  phrenology.  The  youth,  in  his  fall,  struck  that  spot  on  a  round 
stone.  The  blow  splintered  the  bone  but  did  not  cut  the  skin ; 
and  then  there  are  so  many  severe  bruises  and  wounds  on  the 
contiguous  surface  that  they  would  very  naturally  attract  all  your 
attention,  not  being  interested  in  phrenological  investigation.  I 
would  merely  suggest  that  it  would  be  well  to  sustain  nature  with 
generous  fare.  He  will  recover  rapidly,  and  his  appetite  will  be 
ravenous.  Notice  the  fine  swell  of  the  sound  organ,  doctor,  on 
the  left  lobe  !  He  is  waking." 

"  Master  Lacy,"  said  Tommy,  feebly,  "  I  won't  climb  down  them 
rocks  hany  more!  May  I  'ave  some  curd?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  Dr.  Cardon,  with  his  chest  expanded  and  his 
eyebrows  raised  in  a  triumphant  arch.  "  Certainly  j  that  is,  with 
Dr.  Holly's  permission." 

Dr.  Holly  was  exterminated.  Dr.  Cardon  carefully  repacked 
his  cases  on  the  floor  of  the  cab,  and  with  a  fifty  pound  note  in 
his  pocket  and  a  benevolent  smile  on  his  face,  departed.  Barston 
followed  him  to  the  cab  to  get  his  final  instructions. 

"  The  old  woman  will  see  the  boy  fed,"  said  Dr.  Cardon. 

"  You  mean  his  mother  P 

"  No,  I  mean  Dr.  Holly !  Barston,  this  fee  is  absurd.  But  I 
accept  it,  partly  because  you  have  had  the  benefit  of  a  superior 
clinical  lecture.  How  did  your  patient  get  such  a  tumble  ?  How 
high  is  the  bank  above  the  beach  f 

"  About  a  hundred  feet,  I  suppose." 

"  Well,  his  skull  is  thick  or  he  would  never  have  incurred  such 
peril !" 

"  Pooh,  doctor !"  answered  Barston ;  " I  have  been  up  and  down 
there  forty  times." 

"  Very  likely.  When  I  have  your  skull  to  trepan  I  shall  use  a 
chisel !  Don't  let  the  youth  stuff  himself  too  liberally  at  first. 
There  will  be  febrile  symptoms  anon.  Dr.  Holly  will  manage 
judiciously." 


TOMMY.  205 


CHAPTER    XXXIX. 

TOMMY. 

the  day  Barston  sat  by  Tommy's  bedside,  encour- 
aging  him  with  cheerful  talk  whenever  he  was  awake. 
Tommy  was  conscience-smitten,  because  he  had  been  warned 
against  the  dangerous  pathway,  which  he  knew  Mr.  Barston 
habitually  traversed.  The  instinct  that  had  prompted  Swiss  to 
essay  the  passage  at  first  would  be  described  in  Western  Ameri 
can  parlance  as  "  pure  cussedness ;"  but,  knowing  the  route,  in  all 
its  parts,  it  was  not  unsafe  to  Barston,  who  had  the  eye  and  band 
of  a  mountaineer,  and  who  was  an  expert  in  all  athletic  exercises. 
To  poor  Tommy  the  attempt  was  almost  certain  death,  and  he  had 
escaped  fatal  injuries  by  clutching  at  the  stunted  vegetation  and 
breaking  his  fall  (and  his  bones)  as  he  sped  to  the  shingle  beach. 

"You  see,  Master  Lacy,"  he  said,  after  Dr.  Holly  left  them,  "I 
thought  it  would  save  such  a  long  tramp.  Jenny — I'm  sparking 
Jenny,  sir — lives  just  below  the  hill." 

"  But  you  must  not  try  that  route  again,  Tommy.  How  old  are 
you  ?" 

"  Twenty  last  Christmas,  sir." 

"  What  does  Jenny  say  to  your  courtship  f" 

"  She  likes  it  main  well,  sir." 

"  And  what  does  your  mother  say  ?" 

"  I  'aven't  asked  her,  sir.  I  thought  maybe  you  would  tackle 
mother." 

"I  will  talk  to  her.  Suppose  your  mother  has  some  serious  ob 
jection  to  Jenny " 

"  She  can't,  sir !  Jenny  makes  'eavenly  dumplin's,  sir.  I  was 
goin'  to  get  dumplm's  when  I  fell  down  the  rocks.  And  puddin's, 
too.  Mother  gave  me  some  of  her  new  sugar  to  put  on  the  dump 
lin's,  but  the  paper  got  mashed  when  I  fell." 

"  Well,"  said  Barston,  "you  must  not  talk  too  much  now.  Are 
you  comfortable  ?" 

"  No,  sir.  My  leg  hurts,  my  harm  pains  me,  and  my  'ead  feels 
all  up  in  a  knot  like.  I'm  main  hungry,  too." 

"  After  to-day  you  shall  have  plenty  to  eat.  You  will  be  fever 
ish  to-day,  the  doctors  say " 

"  Doctors!"  said  Tommy j  "are  there  two?" 


206  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  There  were  two.  But  Dr.  Cardon  has  gone  back  to  London. 
I  am  going  to  stay  here  until  you  are  better,  or  I  will  ride  down 
every  day  if  I  go  to  Lavington.  See  if  you  cannot  go  to  sleep, 
and  I  will  go  talk  to  your  mother." 

"  Master  Lacy !"  said  Tommy,  "  before  you  go,  please  tell  me 
what  that  Lunnun  doctor  did  to  my  'ead." 

"  He  sawed  a  little  hole  in  it !"  Tommy  snapped  his  eyes  and 
shivered.  "  He  wished  to  see  if  you  had  any  brains.  You  thought 
you  could  go  over  the  rocks  because  I  did  it  ?  Haven't  you  seen 
me  go  up  the  long  ladder  at  the  barn,  with  my  hands,  without 
touching  the  rungs  f 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Can  you  do  it  ?" 

"  No,  sir !  nor  nobody  else  only  you.  Fll  never  go  near  them 
rocks  again  !"  said  Tommy,  solemnly. 

Barston  found  Mrs.  Dawson  in  the  big  kitchen.  She  was  intent 
on  hospitable  cares,  expecting  her  landlord  to  dine  at  Eipple.  Since 
her  boy  had  been  aroused  from  his  stupor  her  mind  was  con 
siderably  relieved,  though  she  was  still  doubtful  about  the  damage 
to  his  limbs. 

"  You  may  dismiss  your  anxiety,  dame,"  said  Barston,  seating 
himself  by  her  side,  "  Tommy  will  get  well,  but  will  require  some 
nursing.  What  do  you  think  of  getting  Jenny  to  help  you !" 

"I  dunno,  Master  Lacy,"  she  answered;  "does  Tommy  want 
her  ?  I  think  he  might  be  satisfied  with  his  old  mother  !" 

"  He  has  not  asked  for  her.  But  it  would  be  a  relief  to  you,  I 
fancy.  You  know  he  cannot  move  about  for  weeks.  What  sort 
of  a  girl  is  Jenny  ?" 

"  Oh,  she  is  a  good  enough  sort  of  girl,"  replied  Mrs.  Dawson, 
discontentedly.  "Tommy  has  been  courting  her,  I  s'pose.  But 
he  is  only  a  baby,  and  she  is  a  slip  of  a  girl." 

"  They  are  both  tolerably  well  grown  babies.  It  struck  me  that 
Tommy  might  take  Ripple  Farm  on  a  sub-lease  from  you,  if  he 
had  a  wife,  and  as  he  would  not  marry  any  girl  that  you  did  not 
recommend,  perhaps  it  would  not  be  amiss  for  you  to  have  her 
here  for  a  week  or  two  and  study  her  temper.  I  think  she  is  a 
pretty,  modest  girl,  and  would  probably  make  a  good  wife  for 
Tommy.  Nobody  can  have  Eipple  while  you  live,  and  I  will  not 
consent  to  any  arrangement  that  does  not  leave  you  mistress.  It 
will  be  more  pleasant  for  you  to  have  Tommy  for  your  foreman 
than  any  other.  I  see  some  eggs  there  looking  fresh  as  daisies. 
If  you  would  allow  me  to  say  what  I  would  like  for  dinner ." 


TOMMY.  207 

"Indeed,  Master  Lacy,  you  would  take  a  load  off  my  mind.  I 
have  been  trying  to  think  what  in  the  world  I  could  get  for  you." 

"  Bacon  and  eggs !  I  am  going  to  the  village,  and  will  send  up 
a  fish.  Then  a  curd,  and  a  mug  of  your  home-brewed  would 
make  a  dinner  for  a  king*  I  had  a  substantial  breakfast  and  will 
abstain  from  luncheon,  and  so  at  three  o'clock  I  hope  to  dine.  I 
expect  to  buy  the  fish  from  Jenny." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  the  dame,  "  you  might  ask  her  to  bring  it  up. 
She  will  be  ready  enough  to  come,  no  doubt ;  and  if  she  could  stay 
two  weeks — you  might  ask  her  mother — maybe  Tommy  will  get 
tired  of  her  by  that  time,  or  she  get  tired  of  him ;  if  you  think 
children  like  them  ought  to  be  courting." 

"  Tommy  will  be  twenty-one  next  Christmas,"  observed  Barston. 
"  As  for  the  courting,  you  can  manage  all  that  when  you  get  the 
girl  here.  I  am  so  ignorant  of  that  business  that  I  cannot  give 
any  advice.  But  the  doctors  agree  that  Tommy  will  be  feverish 
and  restless,  perhaps  for  some  days,  and  you  require  help  to  nurse 
him  properly.  I  can  easily  find  some  other  girl  in  the  village  if 
you  don't  want  Jenny." 

"  Oh,  no,  sir ;  let  her  come." 

"  I  could  send  her  mother,  probably,"  said  Barston,  reflecting. 
"  Probably  that  would  be  better.  She  has  more  experience." 

"  And  she  has  half  a  dozen  brats,  besides  her  man  !  No,  sir. 
Better  send  Jenny.  I  am  curious  to  see  the  girl  anyway." 

"  Have  your  own  way  then,  dame,"  said  Barston,  with  an  air  of 
resignation.  "  But  don't  tell  Tommy.  Let  us  surprise  him." 

"That  was  a  bit  of  diplomacy,"  said  Swiss  to  himself,  as  he 
descended  the  face  of  the  cliff.  "  As  a  general  rule  you  are  safe 
when  you  oppose  obstacles  in  the  way  of  women.  The  dear  angels 
like  to  overcome  difficulties.  I  wonder  if  I  shall  have  to  manage 
Bet  in  that  way — if  I  ever  get  her !  Here  is  my  Proseuche !"  Yield 
ing  to  the  conceit,  which  he  did  not  attempt  to  analyze,  he  drew 
off  his  boots  and  sat  down  at  the  foot  of  the  great  boulder.  Here 
he  rested,  with  his  face  upturned  to  the  bright  sky. 

"  I  have  all  things,  and  abound  1"  he  said  at  last,  lifting  his 
hands  towards  the  heavens,  "and  every  expiration  should  be  a 
psalm  of  praise.  Yet  I  feel  that  some  trial  is  before  me  still.  Oh, 
Merciful !  give  wisdom  and  strength  as  1  shall  need !"  and  then, 
with  passionate  earnestness,  as  ho  stood  upright,  "  in  Thy  time 
and  in  Thy  way  give  me  my  darling,  my  Ret  1" 

And  as  he  passed  on  downward,  from  crag  to  crag,  the  pleasant 


208  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

plash  and  murmur  of  the  little  streamlet  followed  him,  fretting 
over  its  rough  bed,  dropping  in  tiny  cascades,  spreading  out  in 
miniature  lakes,  or  gliding  swiftly  over  long  reaches  of  smooth 
rock,  it  sang  the  same  monotonous  song,  a  succession  of  echoes  of 
his  last  word—"  Ket,  Eet,  Eet !" 

Jenny  was  in  the  porch  of  the  cottage,  behind  the  rough  bench 
that  held  her  scaly  merchandise.  She  knew  Master  Lacy,  and 
put  her  apron  to  her  eyes  as  he  approached. 

"  I  want  the  best  fish  you  have,  Jenny,"  he  said,  "  and  I  want 
you  to  take  it  to  the  farm.  Where  is  your  mother  P 

"  Here  I  be,  your  honour,"  said  Mrs.  Potter,  waddling  into  view, 
and  dropping  a  fat  curtesy.  Two  or  three  chubby  children  fol 
lowed  her,  and  a  baby  somewhere  in  the  interior  squalled  dismally. 
"  Whist,  babby !  Eun  in,  Jenny,  and  rock  him !" 

"  Ah,  Mrs.  Potter,  I  am  about  to  ask  a  favour.  Tommy  Dawson 
is  hurt,  you  know " 

"  Yes,  sir ;  my  Sam  helped  carry  him  home.  Is  he  hurted  bad, 
sir  P  Jenny  lingered  and  the  baby  squalled. 

"  Not  dangerously.  He  will  get  well "  Jenny  threw  up  her 

hands  and  ran  in,  and  the  baby  subsided  j  "  but,"  continued  Bars- 
ton,  "he  has  broken  some  bones,  and  will  be  abed  for  weeks. 
Can  you  spare  one  of  your  children  to  help  his  mother  nurse  him  ? 
What  a  splendid  sole !  I  must  have  that  for  dinner !  Can  you 
send  it  to  the  farm  P 

"  Surely.  Would  Jenny  do,  sir  ?  The  others  are  na  old 
enough.  And  Jenny  sells  the  fish,  too.  I  can  ill  spare  her." 

"I  will  pay  her  a  pound  a  week,  dame,"  said  Barston;  "or 
rather  I  will  pay  you." 

"  Weel!"  said  Mrs.  Potter,  who  came  from  the  canny  north,  "I 
canna'  gainsay  your  honour.  Ye'll  count  the  day  i'  the  wage  P 

"  Certainly.  And  here  is  a  week's  pay  in  advance.  Can  she 
carry  the  sole  with  herP 

"Hoot,  ay!  The  gowd  is  bright  and  bonny!  How  much? 
What  your  honour  pleases,  just.  I'll  no  chaffer  wi'  you  aboot  the 
fish.  Tak'  it  at  your  ain  price,  sir.  If  I  had  it  in  Lunnuu 
'twould  fetch  half  a  crown." 

"  There  is  the  half  crown,  dame.  Take  good  care  of  that  baby. 
I  think  he  will  make  a  great  singer  when  he  is  grown !" 

"  Ay,  ay !  My  Sam  is  a  gay  singer,  though  he's  a  bit  hoarse 
wi'  the  salt  water.  I'll  send  Jenny  as  soon  as  she  gathers  some 
cla'es.  Gude  mornin'  to  your  honour !  Are  ye  gaun  to  walk  abune 
the  cliff?  The  tide  will  be  in  by  noon." 


SOME  REVELATIONS.  209 

"  I  am  going  out  to  meet  it,'?  answered  Barston.  "  The  sea  and 
I  are  old  friends.  Good  day,  dame !" 

"  I  was  a  fule  to  say  auglit  aboot  the  half  crown,"  said  Mrs. 
Potter,  as  Swiss  departed,  "if  I  had  held  my  auld  jaw  he'd  a  gin 
me  three  shilliii' !  Here,  lassie!  Awa'  wi'  you.  Gather  up  some 
duds  and  gang  to  Eipple.  Ye're  to  abide  there  twa  weeks  to  help 
his  rnither  nurse  your  Jo.  Ye'll  no  want  that  blue  gownd  P 

"  Oh,  mother !    I'll  be  there  two  Sabbath  days  P 

"  Aweel — tak'  it  alang,  lassie.  But  gin  you  do  ony  dirty  wark, 
dinna  spoil  your  cla'es !  Ye  look  weel  plea-sit  to  leave  your  puir 
auld  uiither  an'  the  bairns." 

"Oh,  mother,  you  did  not  fall  down  the  cliff  and  get  hurted," 
said  Jenny  j  "  besides,  mother,  a  pound  a  week " 

"  Go  'lang  wi'  your  clatter,  lassie.  Ye  need  na  just  chatter  aboot 
the  pound.  I'll  put  it  awa'  for  you  again  your  weddin'." 

After  Swiss  dined  he  looked  in  upon  the  wounded  youth. 
Jenny  was  seated  at  the  head  of  the  bed,  blushing  a  little,  and 
knitting  a  little,  and  talking  in  a  low  tone.  Tommy's  nose  and 
chin,  which  had  escaped  abrasion  in  his  fall,  were  separated  by 
an  interval  of  about  ten  inches,  owing  to  the  chasm  made  in  his 
countenance  by  his  pleasant  smile. 

Swiss  lighted  his  cigar  and  strolled  out  towards  the  main  road. 
A  great  oak  stood  near  the  stile,  and  under  its  shade  he  sat  and 
smoked.  A  cloud  of  dust  came  down  from  Lavington,  and  a 
horseman  with  it,  and  as  he  drew  rein  at  the  stile  and  the  dust 
blew  away,  Swiss  saw  the  rector,  whose  comely  countenance  was 
shadowed  by  gloom  and  anger  and  deep  distress. 


OHAPTEE  XL. 
SOME  REVELATIONS. 

AS  the  horseman  approached,  Barston  began  to  sing  in  a 
plaintive  minor — 

"  Who  travels  along  this  road  so  late, 

Compagnon  do  la  Marjolaine, 
Who  travels  along  this  road  so  late  ? 
Always  gay  1" 

"  But  that  last  line  is  false.    He  looks  as  glum  as  a  sexton ! 
What  a  funereal  aspect  I    My  dear  Johnny,  is  aught  amiss  f    The 

14 


210  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

ladies !  Nellie !  Speak,  man !  Your  silence  is  portentous !"  As 
he  spoke  he  threw  the  gate  open,  and  the  rector  rode  in  the  lane 
and  dismounted. 

"  Nothing  the  matter,  Barston,"  he  said,  not  noticing  his  friend's 
extended  hand.  "  Nothing  amiss,  except  with  me !'" 

Barston  peered  anxiously  in  the  rector's  troubled  face,  secured 
the  horse  by  throwing  the  bridle  over  a  bough  of  the  tree,  and  sat 
down  on  the  stile  by  Mr.  Harwood's  side. 

"  Can  you  tell  me,  Johnny  ?" 

"  Yes ;  if  you  need  to  be  told.  Oh,  Swiss !  how  cruelly  you 
have  wounded  me !" 

"  I  ?"  said  Barston,  astonished.     "  I !  cruel,  and  to  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  cruel !  Where  was  the  need  of  your  secrecy,  your  de 
ception  ?  I  cannot  believe  it  of  you,  Swiss,  although  I  know  the 
miserable  truth." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Johnny  ?"  said  Swiss,  patiently. 

"I  mean  your  work  in  Stirling!  Your  cunning  device  to  get 
rid  of  me,  sending  me  to  the  castle  !  and  then  your  abrupt  flight 
after  you  had  thoroughly  befooled  me,  and  made  me  turn  myself 
into  a  donkey !  The  very  child  could  see  it !  She  called  me  a 
donkey !  And  before  your — your — wife,  too !" 

Barston's  eyes  dilated. 

"  This  marriage,  Swiss !  It  is  horrible  every  way !  What  do 
you  put  on  that  astonished  expression  for  ?  Do  you  know  nothing 
of  a  secret  Scotch  marriage  in  Stirling  yesterday  f 

"Yes.  I  know  of  a  marriage.  It  was  not  exactly  according  to 
conventional  rule,  but  I  know  it  is  legal.  Too  late  to  resist  the 
fates,  Johnny  !  I  suppose  it  had  to  be." 

"And  why  did  you  not  tell  me  H  What  fiend  prompted  you  to 
deceive  your  friend?  Oh,  Swiss,  I  could  not  have  so  used  you,  if 
my  life  depended  upon  it." 

Swiss  took  out  his  pocket-book  and  rapidly  wrote  several  rows 
of  figures  upon  a  blank  leaf.  He  then  tore  out  the  leaf  and  handed 
it  and  the  pencil  to  the  rector. 

"  Will  you  oblige  me  by  casting  up  that  sum  f  he  said,  politely. 
"  I  am  anxious  to  know  the  total." 

The  rector  glanced  at  the  paper  a  moment,  and  then  wrote  the 
addition  at  the  bottom,  beginning  with  the  left  hand  figure.  Bars- 
ton  gravely  examined  the  sum,  nodded  his  head,  and  thre\v  the 
paper  on  the  ground. 

"  Excuse  me,  Parson !"  he  said,  gently,  "  but  I  noticed  that  you 
added  from  left  to  right.  Is  that  your  usual  habit  V 


SOME  REVELATIONS.  211 

"  Certainly.  I  always  add  all  the  figures  at  once.  It  is  easier 
and  more  accurate.  That  is,  more  certainly  accurate." 

"  The  best  writers  upon  psychological  phenomena,"  said  Swiss, 
oracularly,  "  agree  that  the  mastery  of  figures  is  a  proof  of  sanity. 
Xow,  the  ability  to  add  sums  of  five  figures,  and  five  rows  of  them 
at  one  operation  of  the  mind,  must  demonstrate  the  normal  condi 
tion  of  the  mental  faculties.  It  is  true  that  there  have  been  cases 
well  authenticated,  in  which  this  wonderful  mastery  of  mathemat 
ical  problems  was  manifested  by  idiots !  But,  so  far  as  I  know, 
tbis  power  has  never  been  shown  during  temporary  derangement. 
It  would  contradict  the  most  firmly  established  theories  of  psy 
chology.  The  mental  organism  may,  however,  be  permanently  de 
ranged  in  some  of  its  parts.  And  analogy  seems  to  teach  that  as 
a  man  may  be  blind,  and  yet  hear,  so  he  may  be  able  to  cypher, 
and  yet  insane  !  However,  a  more  satisfactory  solution  of  the 
mystery  may  be  found  in  a  different  form  of  mania,  such  as  de 
lirium  tremens.  "Johnny!"  he  continued,  suddenly,  "excuse 
me,  but  have  you  had  anything  unusual  to  drink  lately  ?" 

"No!  certainly  not !  What  do  you  mean  by  this  exhibition  of 
lunacy?  Stay!  Yes,  I  had!  That  Scotch  wretch  that  married 
you  gave  me  some  stuff  that  he  called  "  Hieland  jew."  I  verily 
believe  it  poisoned  me  !  I  have  not  been  in  my  right  mind  since, 
and  I  have  a  constant  taste  of  turpentine  in  my  throat." 

"Ah !"  said  Barston,  greatly  relieved, "  slightly  inebriated ;  well, 
we  are  progressing.  And  now  to  dispel  the  mists  from  your  poor 
mind.  First :  I  am  not  married  to  any  Scotch  wretch !" 

"  Who  said  you  were?    Are  you  married  to  Clare  Tarn  worth  T 

"  Whew !"  said  S^iss,  with  a  prolonged  whistle.  "  Why,  Johnny, 
I  should  as  soon  think  of  marrying  the  dev— elopement  of  matured 
maternity,  known  vulgarly  as  Satan's  grandmother." 

A  flash  of  joy  spread  over  the  rector's  face !  "Oh,  Swiss,  I  know 
you  are  not  lying !  I  must  be  drunk,  I  suppose !  Still,  the  com 
parison  is  not  flattering  to  Miss  Clare !" 

"  I  mean  no  disrespect  to  her,  Parson,"  answered  Swiss,  coolly. 
"  I  only  mean,  you  blind,  inebriated  mole,  that  I  do  love  another 
darling,  precious,  peerless  woman.  If  I  ever  marry,  I  shall  marry 
her.  Miss  Tamworth !  Why,  you  deceitful  villain,  do  I  not  know 
that  you  are  dying  for  her  yourself !  How  dare  you  talk  such  bosh  ? 
But  it  is  not  you,  it  is  Scotch  whiskey — the  l Hieland  jew' — that 
speaks.  Oh,  Johnny,  do  you  not  know  that  my  soul  is  wrapped 
up  in  ItetT 


212  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Eet!  Swiss,  what  can  I  say,  dear  brother?  What  joy  it  would 
give  me  to  call  you  brother  indeed.  Eet !  Alas  !  Swiss,  her  heart 
is  in  the  tomb." 

"  Is  it  ?"  said  Swiss,  indifferently.  "  Well  then,  I  will  go  into 
the  tomb  after  it.  It  is  too  precious  a  heart  to  stay  in  such  an 
unwholesome  locality.  But,  Johnny,  you  must  not  tell.  If  I  get 
Eet,  it  must  be  by  my  own  prowess.  I  had  to  tell  you." 

"  I  will  not  say  a  word,  Swiss."  replied  the  rector,  slipping  his 
arm  around  his  friend's  burly  form.  "  Now,  tell  me  what  that 
marriage  means  ?" 

"  Kitty  and  Butler  were  married,  I  presume,"  answered  Bar- 
ston.  ^  For  some  unknown  reason  Kitty  assumed  some  other  name." 

u  And  Butler,  too,"  said  the  rector. 

"  Did  he  ?  Well,  I  met  Kitty  afterwards.  I  had  been  taking  a 
gallop  with  Nellie.  Kitty  plied  me  with  eager  questions  touching 
the  validity  of  Scotch  marriages  under  feigned  names,  and  I  in 
ferred  that  she  had  l  gone  and  done  it.'  By  the  bye,  I  noticed 
Lady  Lacy's  brooch  on  her  breast.  When  I  got  back  to  the  inn  I 
found  Mrs.  Dawson's  telegram.  I  left  it  for  you,  and  you  know  all 
the  rest." 

"  Donkey !"  said  the  Parson,  reflecting.  "  That  is  exactly  the 
word.  If  I  had  not  been  drunk,  or  a  donkey,  I  should  have  known 
better  than  to  abuse  that  angel !  I  don't  know  what  I  said  to  her, 
and  I  am  afraid  to  look  her  in  the  face  again  !" 

"  You  mean  Kitty  f  said  Swiss,  puzzled. 

"Kitty  be  bio  wed!"  said  the  rector  in  wrath;  "I  mean  that 
dear,  injured,  insulted  Clare !  Swiss,  I  was  a  regular  brute.  I 
scarcely  saw  Eet  at  all,  and  after  saying  the  rudest  things  I  could 
think  of,  I  told  Clare  I  would  not  go  to  the  Highlands  with  her,  as 
I  had  clerical  duties  calling  me  home !  Oh,  what  a  precious  don 
key  !" 

"  Don't  be  calling  young  ladies  such  hard  names,  Parson,"  said 
Barston.  "  Your  qualifying  adjective  hardly  atones  for  the  uncom 
plimentary  noun.  Besides,  it  is  specially  mean,  as  she  is  not  here !" 

The  rector  gazed  at  Barston's  sober  face  vacantly. 

"  What  did  you  mean,  Johnny,  by  Butler's  assumed  name  ? 
did  he  take  my  name  ?" 

«  Yes." 

"  Did  you  see  it  ?" 

11  No.  Macdower,  that  is,  the  magistrate  who  married  them, 
said  it  was  Clare  Taimvorth  and  Lacy — something.  He  could  not 
remember  your  patronymic ;  said  it  was  outlandish." 


SOME  REVELATIONS.  213 

"  That  is  queer,  too,"  said  Barstoii,  thoughtfully.  "  One  of  niy 
breed  had  a  castle  iu  oldeu  times  within  five  miles  of  Stirling,  and 
the  ruins  of  '  Barstou's  Hold '  are  still  there." 

"  1  am  not  sure  that  Macdower  did  not  reverse  the  names,"  said 
the  rector,  trying  to  recall  the  interview  ;  "  perhaps  he  said  some 
thing — Lacy." 

"  Where  are  you  going  F  said  Swiss,  as  the  rector  led  his  horse 
from  under  the  tree. 

"  Back !  To  Lavington  now,  to  Stirling  to-night,  to  the  Tros- 
sachs  to-morrow,  and  I  shall  give  no  sleep  to  my  eyelids  until 
Clare  forgives  me." 

"  And  your  clerical  duties  F  said  Swiss,  slyly. 

"  I  leave  them  in  your  hands,  Swiss.  If  you  will  put  on  a  gown 
you  may  preach  for  me.  !Not  in  the  church,  however ;  but  you 
may  invite  the  congregation  out  in  the  churchyard,  and  give  them 
some  of  your  latest  vagaries  !" 

"  I  am  afraid  they  have  had  some  of  them  at  second-hand, 
Johnny,  already,"  said  Swiss,  with  cool  impudence. 

"  That  is  true,"  said  the  candid  Parson,  "  but  I  always  had  quo 
tation  marks  in  the  written  sermon,  Swiss.  Good  bye,  you  dear 
old  rascal !  I  love  you  dearly  !" 

As  the  rector  galloped  away,  raising  another  cloud  of  dust,  Bar- 
stou  reseated  himself  on  the  stile  and  lighted  a  fresh  cigar. 

"  It  is  a  queer  story,"  he  muttered  5  "  what  design  had  the  fel 
low  in  taking  iny  name?  and  he  swore  with  such  a  loyal  air  that 
he  had  not  assumed  a  name !  How  could  I  be  deceived  by  his 
bare  assertion  ?  I  remember  his  haughty  manner,  too,  and  thought 
he  looked  so  thoroughbred  while  he  was  lying !  Bah !  I  must  not 
trust  my  instincts  so  implicitly  hereafter." 

He  leaned  back  against  the  trunk  of  the  huge  oak,  pulled  his 
hat  over  his  face  and  smoked,  his  mind  filled  with  a  thousand 
conflicting  thoughts.  A  step  aroused  him,  and  looking  over  the 
hedge  he  saw  a  pedestrian  coining  up  the  road.  Barstou  was  con 
cealed  by  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  and  he  sat  quietly  until  the  man 
passed  him,  walking  with  springing  step  in  the  direction  of  Laving 
ton.  There  was  something  in  his  gait  that  attracted  Barstoii,  and 
he  gazed  after  him,  fascinated.  As  Butler,  for  it  was  he,  disap 
peared  where  the  road  turned,  Swiss  slipped  down  from  the  stile 
and  threw  his  cigar  away;  his  eyes  were  ablaze  and  his  face  pal 
lid  as  he  muttered : 

"  Elbert  Lacy !  by  the  three  kings  ln 


214  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

CHAPTEE    XLI. 
THE  RECTOR'S  CHASE. 

fTlHE  horse  that  bore  the  rector  so  rapidly  from  Eipple  Farm 
-i-  could  not  speak  English,  and  he  therefore  did  his  swearing- 
in  snorts  that  were  perfectly  intelligible,  whenever  Mr.  Harwood 
dug  the  spurs  in  his  flank.  There  was  no  need  of  haste  either,  as 
no  train  would  leave  Lavington  for  two  hours.  When  he  arrived 
at  the  rectory,  he  busied  himself  with  preparations  for  his  return 
journey,  and  partook  of  a  substantial  dinner  with  good  appetite. 
At  last  the  hour  of  departure  came,  and  as  the  train  passed  out 
of  the  station,  he  began  to  regret  that  he  had  not  insisted  upon 
bringing  Barston  with  him,  to  beguile  the  tedium  of  the  journey. 
•  "  There  were  so  many  things  to  consult  him  about !"  he  thought, 
"  and  he  could  have  talked  to  me  about  Ket,  and  listened  to  me 
talking  of  Clare.  Poor  fellow  !  He  does  not  know  how  hopeless 
his  case  is,  and  I  could  not  bear  to  tell  him.  I  have  tried  forty 
times  to  get  Eet  to  talk  of  him  since  he  saw  her,  but  could  never 
induce  her  to  mention  his  name.  She  has  no  idea  of  his  mad  pas 
sion  either,  and  as  soon  as  he  blurts  it  out,  which  he  is  sure  to  do, 
she  will  take  care  that  he  has  no  second  opportunity !  I  could 
not  even  get  her  interest  awakened  in  that  lost  letter,  in  which  he 
sent  her  a  lot  of  messages.  I  must  certainly  warn  him  before  he 
sees  her,  and  tell  him  the  exact  truth  about  her  sentiments.  He 
looked  so  serene  when  I  hinted  that  she  cherished  Jack's  memory 
so  tenderly,  that  it  would  be  cruel  to  enlighten  him.  Poor  Swiss  1 
He  has  forbidden  me  to  speak  of  his  hopes  to  Eet,  but  I  can  at 
least  sound  his  praises  to  her.  It  is  a  good  thing  that  she  is  so 
patient  a  listener,  anyhow. 

"  I  wish  I  could  feel  as  serene  touching  my  approaching  expla 
nations  to  Clare  !  What  can  I  say  ?  Swiss  thinks  that  dreadful 
whiskey  was  to  blame.  Suppose  I  adopt  that  hypothesis  ?  It  is 
worth  a  trial  1  I'll  do  it," 

Then  the  rector  fell  asleep  and  dreamed  that  he  had  Barstou  and 
Eet  before  him  at  the  altar.  He  went  all  through  the  marriage 
service,  Mr.  Butler  giving  the  bride  away.  When  it  was  all  done 
and  he  approached  to  congratulate  Eet,  behold  it  was  Clare  !  He 
had  made  a  mistake,  and  got  the  wrong  lady  !  While  he  stood 
stupefied,  and  wondering  how  the  error  could  be  rectified,  Nellie 


THE  RECTOR'S  CHASE.  215 

came  waddling  up  the  aisle  and  stood  before  him,  nodding  gravely 
and  regarding  him  with  her  peculiar,  steadfast  gaze.  Then  point 
ing  to  Clare  and  to  him  alternately,  she  said,  "  Donkeys  !"  and 
waddled  out  of  the  church.  He  was  thoroughly  miserable,  and 
looked  at  Mr.  Macdower's  coming  up  through  the  floor  of  the  trail, 
sept  as  a  very  natural  proceeding.  And  when  the  Scot,  with  his 
eyes  twinkling,  offered  him  a  bottle  of  "jew,"  he  felt  impelled  to 
accept  the  detestable  draught.  Before  he  swallowed  it,  however, 
the  church  door  banged,  the  bell  rang,  and  the  old  sexton  bawled 
in  his  ear — "  Ticket,  please  !" 

"  Where  are  we,  guard  f  he  inquired,  shaking  himself  awake. 

"  Brummageu,  sir  !  Ticket,  sir !  Thankee  sir,  all  right  1"  and  the 
door  banged  and  locked. 

"  That  sort  of  dreaming  won't  do !"  said  the  rector,  "  that  Scotch 
rascal  had  almost  got  the  stuff"  down  my  throat !  I  believe  it 
would  have  choked  me,  even  in  a  dream." 

In  the  gray  morning  light,  the  tall  chimneys  of  Glasgow  appear 
ed.  The  rector  had  decided  to  reverse  the  route  that  the  ladies 
projected,  hoping  to  meet  them,  as  he  could  not  overtake  them. 
They  were  to  stop  at  the  "  Queen's  Hotel"  in  Glasgow,  and  he  was 
rejoiced  to  find  upon  inquiry  that  they  had  not  arrived.  By  the 
first  train  for  Loch  Lomond  he  was  off  again,  and  when  at  length 
he  was  on  board  the  little  steamer,  and  gliding  over  the  surface  of 
the  loch,  he  felt  sure  that  he  had  them  before  him.  Arriving  at 
Inversuaid,  he  learned  there  was  a  coach  due  from  Loch  Katrine, 
later  in  the  day,  and  it  was  possible  that  the  ladies  might  arrive, 
and  proceed  to  Glasgow  that  afternoon.  He  decided  to  wait. 

It  was  hard  work.  The  boots,  who  was  supposed  to  know  every- 
thing,  informed  him  that  the  coach  would  arrive  in  two  hours. 
One  hundred  and  twenty  minutes  to  be  employed  in  some  way. 
He  would  climb  the  mountain  behind  the  inn.  It  was  called  Ben 
jamin  something.  The  view  from  the  summit  would  certainly 
repay  him  for  the  toil,  and  the  time  would  be  sped  at  least.  It 
was  a  small  affair,  but  would  occupy  sixty  minutes,  anyhow. 

Fifteen  minutes'  brisk  walking  brought  him  to  a  halting  place, 
and  he  was  quite  content  to  sit  on  a  fragment  of  rock  and  rest 
awhile.  He  seemed  to  be  rather  farther  from  the  summit  than 
when  he  began  the  ascent.  But  the  placid  sheet  of  water,  spread 
out  at  his  feet,  was  very  beautiful,  and  as  the  great  body  of  the 
loch  was  hidden  by  a  projecting  crag,  he  would  surmount  that,  and 
then  enjoy  a  wider  view.  Panting,  after  a  prolonged  scramble,  he 


216  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

sat  down  again  and  took  a  large  drink  of  lovely  scenery.  The 
summit  of  this  Benjamin  was  still  provokingly  distant,  and  he 
began  to  donbt  his  ability  to  reach  it  and  return  within  two  hours. 
He  looked  at  his  watch.  The  two  hours  were  gone ! 

The  rector  never  knew  how  he  quitted  Benjamin.  But  when 
he  reached  the  plateau,  a  hundred  feet  above  the  inn,  he  saw  the 
little  steamer  speeding  down  the  loch,  bearing  Ret  and  Clare, 
both  of  whom  he  clearly  recognized,  seated  upon  the  deck  ! 

"  Gone  !    Dear  me  !"  said  Mr.  Harwood. 

This  mild  expletive  was  very  unsatisfactory.  But  the  good  Par 
son  never  thought  of  using  any  of  the  more  emphatic  phrases 
wherewith  men  usually  vent  their  wrath.  No  escape  from  Inver- 
snaid  was  possible  until  morning.  The  rector  meekly  accepted 
the  inevitable,  and  forced  himself  to  say :  "It  is  all  for  the  best !" 
At  the  same  time  he  would  have  paid  twenty -five  pounds  cheer 
fully  for  any  decent  pretext  for  tears. 

Like  a  sensible  man,  he  went  directly  to  the  source  of  relief,  in 
so  far  as  relief  from  disappointment  is  attainable  beneath  the 
skies.  He  went  to  work.  And  the  best  sort  of  work  to  bring 
comfort  and  placidity  is  the  work  of  composition.  The  rector 
shut  himself  up  in  his  room  and  wrote  a  sermon.  His  text  was, 
"Tribulation  worketh  patience."  It  was  scholarly,  rhetorical, 
evangelical.  And  he  went  to  bed  after  it  and  slept  soundly. 

When  he  reached  Glasgow  he  learned  that  the  ladies  had  spent 
the  night  at  the  "  Queen's,"  and  departed  for  Liverpool  that  morn 
ing.  He  took  the  first  train  and  followed  them,  not  knowing  any 
thing  about  their  intentions,  except  that  Clifton  was  their  objective 
point.  They  were  a  day  ahead  of  him  now  and  the  chase  was 
getting  hopeless. 

"  Lime  Street  Station,  sir  f  asked  the  guard,  when  he  sur 
rendered  his  ticket. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  Parson.  He  did  not  know  anything  concern 
ing  Lime  street,  but  he  was  indifferent  about  stations. 

"  All  right,  sir.    This  carriage  goes  to  Lime  street." 

In  due  time  Lime  street  was  reached.  The  rector  crushed  his 
hat  against  the  door  frame  when  he  emerged  from  the  carriage. 
His  neckcloth  was  awry,  and  he  looked  dilapidated  and  seedy  as 
he  walked  down  the  platform,  a  porter  following  with  his  port 
manteau.  He  glanced  about  incuriously  at  the  throngs  hurrying 
out  of  his  train  and  at  other  throngs  hurrying  into  another  train 
on  the  opposite  platform,  and  peace  entered  his  soul  as  he  saw  his 


THE  RECTORS  CHASE.  217 

sister  and  Miss  Tarn  worth  entering  a  carriage  within  twenty  yards 
of  him. 

"  Hillo,  sir !"  said  the  porter,  as  Mr.  Harwood  bounded  across 
the  rails,  contrary  to  all  rule,  "  that's  not  the  way !  Fin  blest  if 
he  a'ut  gone  for  the  down  train !  lie's  been  and  'ad  something 
'eavy  to  drink !  Beg  parding,  sir,  but  this  is  the  wrong  way !" 

11  On  the  contrary,  my  friend,"  replied  the  rector,  with  beaming 
countenance,  "  this  is  the  first  step  I  have  taken  in  the  right  way 
for  a  week !  My  dear  Eet,  I  have  been  chasing  you  three  days. 
Miss  Tamworth,  I  have  not  see"n  the  sun  shine  since  we  parted. 
And  there's  Nellie !  Porter,  put  the  portmanteau  under  the  seat. 
Here's  a  shilling." 

In  two  minutes  the  train  slipped  noiselessly  out  of  the  station, 
and  in  five  more  it  was  roaring  through  a  long  tunnel.  While 
they  were  in  the  darkness  Mr.  Harwood  touched  Miss  Clare's 
hand  and  whispered : 

"  Only  forgive  me  this  time !" 

When  they  came  into  the  light  again,  Nellie  requested  her  uncle 
to  take  her  on  his  knee.  She  inspected  him  intently,  and  en 
deavoured  to  adjust  his  neckcloth.  He  was  hilarious,  and  totally 
unconscious  of  crushed  hat  and  travel  stains.  Lady  Lacy  asked 
him  a  string  of  questions  touching  his  sudden  flight  to  Laving- 
ton  and  his  sudden  return.  His  replies  were  confused  and  un 
satisfactory.  Did  he  go  to  see  Tommy  Dawsou  f  No,  but  he  had 
been  to  Hippie  and  seen.  Swiss.  How  was  Tommy  f  He  really 
forgot  to  ask.  How  long  was  he  in  Laviugton  ?  Only  an  hour 
or  two.  What  in  the  world  were  the  "  clerical  duties  "  that  made 
such  a  journey  necessary  ?  He  stammered  something  about  post 
poning  them.  And  then  Nellie  asked : 

"  How  you  get  your  hat  mashed,  uncle  f 

While  this  was  progressing,  and  while  the  abashed  Parson  was 
trying  to  get  the  kinks  out  of  his  hat,  Miss  Tamworth  was  slyly 
watching  him.  He  had  left  her  sorrowfully,  indignantly,  majesti 
cally,  and  he  had  returned  in  such  a  jolly  mood  that  he  was 
positively  chuckling  with  delight,  with  a  hat  in  the  condition 
usually  called  "  shocking  bad."  Kitty,  who  had  caused  all  the 
trouble,  was  sitting  demure  and  silent  in  the  corner  of  the  carriage, 
and  the  rector  had  greeted  her  with  a  kind  smile  when  he  entered. 
There  was  only  one  solution  of  the  problem  in  Clare's  mind  : 

"  Delirium  thingamy  P 

The  rector  was  devoured  with  anxiety  to  explain  to  Miss  Tain- 


218  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

l 

worth  his  "  brutal"  conduct  at  Stirling.    If  he  could  only  get  live 

minutes  alone  with  her!  And  he  stole  furtive  glances  at  her 
through  Nellie's  curls,  trying  to  see  some  token  of  forgiveness  in 
her  grave  face. 

Miss  Tamworth  was  perplexed  to  know  how  to  keep  out  of  the 
Parson's  reach.  She  saw  very  plainly  the  "  mania  "  in  his  eyes, 
and  would  about  as  soon  accord  "  five  minutes  alone"  to  a  laugh 
ing  hyena  as  to  the  jocular  Parson.  After  his  trials  of  the  preced 
ing  days  the  revulsion  was  great,  and  it  is  a  marvel  that  he 
behaved  as  decorously  as  he  did. 

Nellie  was  excited  and  restless.  She  fell  asleep  on  his  shoulder 
when  tired  out,  her  golden  tresses  mingling  with  his  brown 
whiskers.  He  would  not  allow  her  to  be  disturbed.  They  were 
a  very  quiet  party.  When  Nellie's  nap  was  over,  she  announced 
a  proposition  that  was  startling,  but  which  all  her  hearers 
thought  was  very  just. 

"  When  we  get  to  Clifton,  uncle,"  she  said,  "  there  will  be  some 
Donkeys  there !" 


CHAPTEK    XLII. 
THE  DONKEYS. 

rriHE  Eeverend  John  Harwood  spent  two  days  at  the  hotel  in 
JL  Clifton.  Miss  Tarn  worth's  inheritance  was  scattered  all  over 
that  town  and  Bristol,  yielding  her  a  handsome  revenue.  Her  an 
cestral  residence,  Vincent  Lodge,  was  nearly  a  mile  from  the  town, 
and  the  rector  walked  out  in  that  direction  on  the  third  day  after 
their  arrival.  Before  he  had  traversed  half  the  distance  he  met 
the  ladies  and  Nellie,  who  were  on  their  way  to  Clifton  Downs.  It 
was  a  lovely  morning,  in  which  the  dying  spring  was  giving  place 
to  the  incoming  summer. 

"  I  have  purposely  avoided  the  Downs,"  he  said,  after  the  ex 
change  of  greetings,  "  until  Miss  Clare  would  condescend  to  intro 
duce  me.  May  I  join  you  in  your  walk  ?" 

"  We  were  coming  for  you,"  answered  Lady  Lacy,  taking  his 
arm.  "  Nellie,  walk  with  Clare  while  I  talk  to  your  uncle." 

This  was  not  the  precise  arrangement  the  rector  desired.  Like 
a  blundering  masculine,  he  would  have  "  changed  partners "  at 
the  start,  but  his  quick-witted  sister  knew  better.  She  had 
already  decided  how  to  give  him  his  opportunity. 


THE  DONKEYS.  219 

,  "  I  am  very  much  interested  in  that  poor  boy,"  said  Lady  Lacy. 
"  Surely  you  heard  something  about  him  at  Lavingtonf 

"  Not  much,  Bet.  I  met  Dr.  llolly,  who  told  me  the  boy  had 
broken  all  his  bones  and  mashed  his  head  in  a  fall  from  the  cliffs 
at  Kipple.  I  think  he  said  they  had  mended  him." 

"They?" 

"  Yes.  Swiss  took  his  old  preceptor  with  him,  Doctor  Cardon. 
You  have  heard  of  him  ?  It  is  that  fellow  in  London  who  saws  a 
man  up  into  small  pieces  and  then  sews  him  up  again  as  good  as 
new.  Ket,  it  is  not  polite  to  turn  Miss  Tarn  worth  over  to  Nellie." 

"  Never  mind  Miss  Tain  worth.  You  shall  escort  her  presently 
—as  soon  as  you  tell  me  all  you  know  about  Tommy." 

"  I  think  that  is  all.  Holly  says  they  did  something  to  the  lad's 
skull — put  a  pan  on  it,  or  something  of  the  sort.  He  is  all  right. 
Needs  nursing,  and  Swiss  has  quietly  settled  himself  down  to  do 
it.  He  is  a  glorious  fellow,  Ket." 

"  Tommy  f '  said  Ket,  innocently. 

"No,  Swiss."  He  paused  a  moment,  reflecting,  then  added: 
"  Ket,  of  all  the  specimens  of  unselfish,  manly,  truthful,  kind  and 
wise  men  that  I  have  ever  met,  Swiss  is  the  best !  Nobody  under 
stands  him  except  his  poor  friend,  Parson  Johnny,  and  he  will  go 
to  his  grave  unappreciated  by  an  ignorant  world." 

"  Well,"  responded  Ket,  her  cheeks  aglow  with  the  exercise  in 
the  sweet  air  of  the  Downs,  "  after  that  ante-mortem  panegyric 
you  may  take  Clare.  Nellie,  come  walk  with  mamma." 

Miss  Tarn  worth  had  caught  the  same  ruddy  hue,  from  a  similar 
cause.  She  put  her  dainty  glove  on  the  Parson's  offered  arm,  as 
Nellie  and  her  mother  hastened  ahead  in  a  regular  romp.  The 
hour  was  early,  and  the  Downs  were  depopulated. 

"You  must  listen  to  me  patiently,  Miss  Tamworth,"  he  began, 
with  grave  precision.  "  I  have  to  explain  my  misconduct  the  other 
day,  and  throw  myself  upon  your  mercy  for  pardon.  I  was  not 
myself." 

"  I  suppose  not,"  was  the  grim  rejoinder.  "  I  hope  you  had  a 
satisfactory  reason  for  getting  into  that  state.  You  have  had  a 
reputation  for  very  peculiar  abstemiousness,  which  would  be  seri 
ously  damaged  if  your  parishioners  should  see  you " 

"  Upon  my  honour,  Clare,"  answered  the  rector,  anxiously,  "  I 
did  not  know  what  the  horrid  stuff  was.  Swiss  says  I  was  inebri 
ated  !" 

"  Of  course !" 


220  TEE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  That  Scotchman  gave  it  to  me.  I  was  faint  and  sick.  How 
could  it  be  otherwise  when  he  told  me  he  had  just  married  Clare 
Tamworth !" 

"  What  do  you.  say?" 

"  I  say,  Mr.  Macdower  told  me  he  had  married  a  lovely  lady  that 
morning  to  some  Mr.  Lacy  1  He  said  she  wore  a  diamond  brooch 
composed  of  three  lilies.  I  have  seen  it  on  your  neck  a  dozen 
times.  He  said  her  name  was  Clare  Tamworth !" 

"And  you  believed  him?"  she  answered,  withdrawing  her  hand 
from  his  arm.  "  You  thought  I — I  had  contracted  a  secret  mar 
riage  !  What  have  I  done  that  you  should  think  so  meanly  of  me  F 
and  she  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

"  Clare !"  said  Parson  Johnny,  "  come  sit  down  here.    Can  you 

make  no  allowances " 

"  None !"  she  answered,  taking  the  indicated  seat,  and  slyly 
watching  his  troubled  face  through  the  flimsy  kerchief. 

"  I  had  come  from  Laviugton  with  enough  courage  mustered 
up  to  ask  you  to  be  my  wife.  I  thought  I  would  tell  you  how 
sincerely  I  admired  and  loved  you.  I  had  gained  my  own  con 
sent  to  ask  you  to  forego  all  the  brilliant  prospects  that  were 
before  you,  and  to  marry  a  poor  country  Parson,  who  had  nothing 
to  plead  but  an  honest  affection — nothing  to  offer  but  a  life-long 
devotion.  And  when  the  magistrate  told  me,  with  cold  precision, 

that  you  were  married " 

"  You  did  all  you  could  to  get  delirium  thingamy !"  said  Clare, 
uncovering  her  eyes ;  "  and  when  you  joined  us  the  other  day  at 

Liverpool  with  your  hat  mashed " 

"  That  was  an  accident,  Clare,"  answered  the  discomfited  rector. 
"  I  struck  my  hat  against  the  car." 

"  And  your  eyes  blazing  with  excitement,"  continued  the  lady, 
not  noticing  his  interruption,  "  looking  so  wild  that  I  was  posi 
tively  afraid  of  you " 

"  That  was  joy  at  seeing  you  again,  Clare.  I  love  you,  and  I 
cannot  make  my  eyes  tell  lies !  I  can  scarcely  refrain  from  clasp 
ing  you  in  my  arms,  even  now !" 

"  You  had  better!"  retorted  Clare  with  a  little  scream ;  "  where 
are  you  going  F 

"Anywhere?  I  see  that  you  can  never  love  me,  and  the 
wretchedness  I  suffer  away  from  you  is  more  tolerable  than  the 
agony  of  being  near  you,  and  keeping  silent  upon  the  only  subject 
that  interests  me.  Do  you  think  I  would  be  brute  enough  to 


THE  DONKEYS.  221 

annoy  you  with  protestations  that  are  so  distasteful  to  you !  You 
have  had  a  lot  of  fellows  hanging  around  you,  and  talking  bosh 
so  long  that  you  have  no  appetite  for  earnest,  heartfelt,  unchange 
able  devotion !  Ah !  if  you  could  only  have  loved  me  !  But  I  am 
dumb  !" 

"None  of  the  'fellows'  ever  said  such  cross  things  to  me  as  you 
say  !"  replied  Clare,  piteously,  dropping  a  tear  or  two.  They  keep 
a  supply  of  them,  reader,  those  angels,  and  drown  a  poor  thick- 
skulled  man  with  a  spoonful  at  their  good  pleasure!  "Pray 
don't  leave  me  here  alone!  Ret  is  out  of  sight  and  hearing !  Any 
one  of  the  '  fellows '  would  have  offered  me  his  arm,  instead  of 
flying  off  in  a  rage  !  Before  I  said  l  no,'  too !" 

"  It  is  not  necessary  to  say  no,  Clare.  You  can  look  no,  and 
act  no  without  speaking." 

"  Dear  me !"  she  said,  with  a  sigh,  as  she  took  his  arm  again ; 
"  one  must  regulate  all  one's  looks  and  acts,  too !  How  long  have 
you— been — imagining  yourself  in  love  with  poor  mef' 

"  I  don't  know  when  I  did  not  love  you,  Clare.  I  thought  you 
liked  Swiss " 

"  Mr.  Barston !"  said  she,  with  another  charming  little  scream. 
"  I  should  as  soon  think  of  marrying  the Great  Mogul !" 

"  Why  that  is  what  he  said  about  you  1"  said  the  rector,  with  • 
delicious  simplicity. 

"Sir!" 

"  I  mean — I  thought  you  had  married  him  !  That  Scotchman 
said  a  Mr.  Lacy  something — so  I  went  to  Lavington  and  asked 
him." 

"  And  he  said  he  would  as  soon  marry  the  Great  Mogul  f 

11  No.  He  mentioned  some  other  dignitary.  I  forget.  Oh, 
Clare,  will  you  promise  to  keep  a  secret  f ' 

"  Yes !"  she  answered,  eagerly.  That  is  their  way,  reader,  those 
angels !  They  will  promise  anything  to  hear  a  secret. 

"Well,  poor  Swiss  loves  Eet!  He  charged  me  most  sternly 
never  to  mention  it.  And  I  have  told  you,  you  see,  at  once.  But 
I  love  you  so — there — I  am  done !" 

"  You  may  go  on  1"  she  answered,  leaning  a  little  more  on  his 
arm,  "  I  suppose  I  ought  to  hear  all  you  have  to  say." 

"  But  I  have  said  all.  I  love  you !  I  love  you !  Ah,  if  you 
could  only  say  so  to  me !  Could  I  make  you  love  me,  Clare,  by 
any  self-denial,  any  endurance,  any  patient  waiting  f 

"In  two  or  three  years,"  said  Miss  Tamworth,  slowly  and 


222  THE  LACT  DIAMONDS. 

shyly — "  I  might — like  you  a  little.    Men  are  such  horrid,  cross, 

impulsive,  unreasonable  things,  that  I Let  go  my  hand,  sir ! 

I  hear  somebody  coming." 

"  Do  you  love  me  a  little  now,  Clare  ?"  said  the  rector. 

"  I  don't  know  !  If  you  don't  get  delirium  thingamy  any  more, 
and  dash  off,  leaving  me  heart-broken  with  your  cruel  words,  I 
will  try  to  forgive  you  this  time." 

"  Do  you  love  me  a  little  P 

"  Just  a  little  grain,  perhaps.    Ah !  there  is  somebody." 

"  Oh,  mamma !"  said  Nellie,  rushing  into  view,  "  here  are  the 
lovely  donkeys!"  and  she  pointed  at  a  string  of  those  attractive 
quadrupeds,  just  appearing  upon  the  Downs. 

"  Thank  fortune !"  said  the  relieved  rector,  "  she  don't  mean  us.'? 

"What  conspiracies  are  you  two  plotting!"  said  Lady  Lacy. 
"You  have  been  an  hour  down  there !" 

"  I  have  been  trying  to  get  a  sister  for  you,  Bet,"  answered  her 
brother ;  "  ask  Clare  if  I  have  succeeded." 

"  My  darling !"  said  Lady  Lacy,  slipping  her  arm  round  Miss 
Tamworth's  waist.  "  Come  away  for  a  run  !  I  am  so  happy !" 

Clare  kissed  her  hand  to  the  rector  as  she  tripped  away,  and, 
turning  her  blushing  face  to  Eet,  whispered, 
-     "  So  am  I !" 

The  rector  took  Nellie  on  his  shoulder,  and  went  to  meet  the 
donkeys.  The  leader  had  made  up  his  mind  suddenly  that  the 
Downs  was  not  an  attractive  locality.  He  laid  his  ears  back,  and 
planted  his  fore  feet  firmly  in  the  sod,  refusing  to  move.  His 
driver  belaboured  his  flanks  with  a  switch  of  about  two  inches  in 
diameter  without  effect.  While  Mr.  Harwood  waited  for  the 
quadruped  to  alter  his  mind  the  ladies  approached. 

"  I  would  recommend  that  picture  to  your  serious  considera 
tion,"  said  Miss  Tamworth.  "  You  can  judge  how  the  Harwood 
obstinacy  looks !" 

Mr.  Harwood  took  the  bridle  from  the  hand  of  the  driver,  patted 
the  vicious  little  brute  on  the  neck,  and  persuaded  him  to  follow. 
He  placed  Nellie  in  the  saddle,  and  the  donkey  finding  she  was  a 
light  weight,  consented  to  amble  gently  along.  The  rector  nodded 
triumphantly  as  he  moved  away. 

"  Learn  a  lesson  yourself,  Miss  Clare,"  he  said ;  "  you  see  what 
can  be  accomplished  by  kindness.  Pet  the  Harwoods  a  little  and 
you  can  lead  them  where  you  will!" 


NELLIE  LOST.  223 

OHAPTEE   XLIII. 

NELLIE  LOST. 

rpOMMY  DAWSON  recovered  slowly.  Dr.  Holly  kept  him 
-L  abed  perhaps  a  little  longer  than  was  necessary,  partly  be- 
c.uise  he  wished  the  bones  to  "knit"  well  and  partly  because 
Barston  paid  the  guinea  punctually  at  each  visit.  The  patient  did 
not  murmur ;  he  was  fed  judiciously,  and  Jenny  was  flitting  in  and 
out  all  day.  Swiss  rode  down  daily,  sometimes  from  the  village 
and  sometimes  from  Oakland.  The  rector  wrote  to  him  twice  a 
week,  and  on  Saturdays  Barston  met  him  at  the  station  as  Mr. 
Harwood  came  down  regularly  to  attend  to  the  "  clerical  duties  n 
of  Sunday.  By  the  earliest  train  on  Monday  he  was  off  again, 
pining  for  "  the  air  of  the  Downs." 

When  Tommy  was  fairly  out,  hobbling  about  on  crutches,  Mr. 
Barston  went  to  London  to  make  purchases.  He  was  adorning 
his  home  elaborately.  New  furniture  arrived  at  the  Lavington 
station  in  quantity,  and  the  ladies  of  the  Union  Mission,  half 
churohwomen  and  half  dissenters,  exchanged  harmless  gossip 
about  Oakland  and  its  lord.  That  he  was  setting  his  house  in 
order  was  plain,  and  the  natural  inference  was  that  he  was  about 
to  "  settle  down." 

Settling  down  usually  means  matrimony. 

"  It  is  certainly  some  London  lady,"  said  Miss  Liston.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  the  Honourable  Mannaduke  Liston,  who  was 
cousin  to  Lord  Lappermilk.  Mr.  Liston  lived  very  economically 
on  his  small  income,  and  hoped  for  the  time  when  dear  Lucy  would 
make  some  gentleman  happy,  and  leave  him  the  whole  of  his 
scanty  revenue  for  his  personal  use.  As  she  was  thirty,  and 
indeed  had  been  thirty  for  an  indefinite  number  of  years,  Mr. 
Liston  manifested  commendable  perseverance  in  hope.  Miss  Lucy 
was  a  devoted  churchwoman,  and  thought  the  rector  was  lovely. 

"  I  don't  believe  it  is  any  lady,"  said  Miss  Nevill.  She  was  the 
young  sister  of  Major  Nevill,  a  gouty  old  bachelor,  living  on  half 
pay.  He  had  been  in  the  Crimea  and  knew  Mr.  Barston.  "  Brother 
says  Mr.  Barston  is  too  sensible  a  man  to  marry.  He  thinks  he  is 
only  fitting  up  a  bachelor  establishment." 

'•  He  was  at  Spurgeon's  Tabernacle  last  Sunday,"  said  Miss  Bui- 


224  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

lion,  the  banker's  daughter ;  "  probably  he  is  going  to  marry  some 
dissenting  damsel  out  of  that  flock." 

"  More  likely  he  will  start  off  for  the  Albert  Nyanza  or  the 
mountains  of  the  moon,"  said  Miss  Dora  Bullion,  "  as  soon  as  he 
has  furnished  his  house.  I  believe  he  has  been  everywhere  else." 
"  Mr.  Macdower  says  he  was  over  in  America,  where  they  are 
fighting,"  said  Miss  Oswald.  She  was  a  member  of  the  Presby 
terian  flock,  and  was  supposed  to  have  designs  upon  her  pastor. 
<'And  he  was  part  surgeon,  part  missionary  and  part  hospital 
nurse.  He  brought  letters  to  Mr.  Macdower  from  one  of  his 
cousins  in  North  Carolina." 

"  Madame  Laplace  says  he  was  in  Paris  last  week,"  said  Miss 
Frippery.  She  was  the  fashionable  lady  of  Lavington,  whose 
whole  soul  was  swallowed  up  in  dress.  "  She  met  him  in  the  Pas 
sage  de  L'Orme,  where  she  buys  her  millinery.  He  was  buying  a 
hat,  trimmed  with  real  lace ;  it  was  a  Leghorn ;  the  flowers  were  the 
most  expensive  he  could  buy.  Madame  says  it  was  totally  out  of 
style  for  any  grown  person.  She  saw  him  write  on  the  back  of  his 
card,  '  For  my  darling/  and  he  dropped  the  card  in  the  box.  He 
took  it  away  with  him,  so  she  could  not  tell  what  address  he  put 
upon  it.  It  cost  a  hundred  francs !" 

"  A  hundred  francs !"  said  the  rest  in  chorus. 
"  Only  four  pounds,  you  know,"  said  Miss  Frippery.    "  I  think 
that  was  quite  moderate,  considering  how  rich  he  is.    Of  course 
it  was  for  a  present  j  for  his  darling !     Thai  seems  to  me  to  settle 
the  question  of  a  bachelor  establishment  F 

Little  Nellie  got  the  hat  by  express  and  was  airing  it  on  Clif 
ton  Downs  at  the  very  moment  that  the  amiable  ladies  were  dis 
cussing  it. 

Why  di  d  not  Barston  go  to  Clifton  ?  He  had  not  been  invited, 
and  he  was  shy. 

The  rector  was  so  engrossed  in  his  own  courtship,  that  he  did 
not  think  often  of  his  friend.  When  he  did,  he  supposed  he  was 
still  occupied  with  Tommy.  On  Saturdays  he  could  not  talk 
much,  as  he  always  had  his  sermon  to  write.  Sunday  was  filled 
up  with  church  services  and  needful  pastoral  visitations,  and  Mon 
day  carried  him  back  to  Clare.  The  letters  he  wrote  to  Barston 
were  brief,  and  the  charming  egotism  of  a  happy  lover  made  him 
blind  to  everything  outside  the  walls  of  his  paradise. 

Miss  Tamworth  liked  Mr.  Barstou  very  much ;  but  she  liked  the 
rector  more.  If  the  thought  of  having  Swiss  at  Clifton  occurred 


NELLIE  LOST.  225 

to  her,  she  did  not  entertain  it  long.  The  consequence  would  be 
to  take  Parson  Johnny  off  now  and  again.  Mr.  Barston  could 
not  always  gallop  about  the  country  with  Nellie,  and  there  was 
nobody  else  to  entertain  him  but  Ret.  Eet  did  not  fancy  him. 
She  had  not  heard  her  mention  his  name  for  years.  And  when 
she  tried  to  make  him  the  subject  of  conversation,  Lady  Lacy 
maintained  a  cold  and  dignified  silence.  There  was  some  bad  feel 
ing  between  them,  perhaps  growing  out  of  the  Lacy  inheritance, 
of  which  Clare  had  heard  some  gossip  somewhere — probably  from 
Lord  Lappermilk,  who  investigated  rent-rolls  of  marriageable 
females  on  principle.  It  would  be  horrid  to  bring  an  uncon 
genial  companion  there  to  annoy  poor  Eet.  So  Miss  Clare  rea 
soned. 

"  Poor  Eet "  thought  of  Mr.  Barston,  too.  Notwithstanding 
the  rooted  dislike  which  Miss  Tarn  worth  had  detected,  Lady  Lacy 
spent  many  hours  in  the  perusal  of  some  old  letters.  She  had 
three  of  them,  all  written  to  the  rector.  The  first  was  written 
immediately  after  Sir  John  Lacy's  death.  The  second  was  written 
on  the  eve  of  Barston's  last  voyage.  The  third  was  the  short 
scrawl,  left  at  the  "  Castle  Inn,"  at  Stirling.  The  gentle  reader 
has  seen  them  all. 

Following  the  suggestion  so  kindly  dropped  by  Miss  Clare,  we 
may  account  for  Lady  Lacy's  conduct  in  this  regard.  She  was  too 
good  to  nourish  enmity  without  just  cause.  She  was  too  good  to 
set  an  evil  example  of  non-love  to  her  neighbour ;  so  she  always 
locked  herself  in  her  room  when  she  perused  the  letters.  Her 
object,  of  course,  was  to  detect  the  hidden  villainy  in  Mr.  Bars- 
ton's  character.  And  her  innate  goodness  of  heart  always  made 
her  eyes  humid  when  she  read  these  epistles  (and  she  always 
read  every  word  of  all  of  them),  and  she  always  blushed  when  she 
put  them  carefully  away  under  lock  and  key,  being  ashamed  of 
the  rascality  they  unfolded,  and  sorrowful  for  the  general  wicked 
ness  of  mankind.  It  was  very  remarkable,  and  altogether  inex 
plicable  also,  that  she  usually  concluded  these  exercises  by  wring 
ing  her  hands,  and  saying — 

"  Oh,  if  I  only  could  be  certain  that  Mr.  DeVere  was  telling 
lies !  and  that  Mr.  Bottomry  was  telling  lies !  I  think  I  could  die 
happy !" 

As  this  little  accomplishment  distinguished  the  two  gentlemen 
she  named,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  her  pious  desire  will  be  gratified 
before  this  truthful  narrative  is  finished.  And  as  the  reader  will 

15 


226  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

be  curious  to  know  what  special  instance  of  mendacity  Eet  was 
anxious  about,  that,  also,  shall  be  revealed  in  due  time. 

The  peculiar  relations  subsisting  betwixt  Eet  and  Swiss  were 
known  to  themselves  alone,  Neither  of  them  had  ever  mentioned 
the  interesting  conversation  that  occurred  at  their  last  interview. 
To  Swiss  it  was  full  of  mystery.  To  Eet  much  of  the  mystery  was 
now  explained.  But  there  was  no  proper  opportunity  afforded  for 
the  explanations  that  would  have  broken  down  all  the  barriers 
separating  these  loving  hearts.  Lady  Lacy  rose  from  the  perusal 
of  the  letters  each  time  with  the  conviction  that  Barstou  loved 
her  still,  and  that  he  would  never  relinquish  her.  Why  he  delayed 
the  renewal  of  his  suit  she  could  not  imagine,  and  she  expected 
each  day  that  Nellie  went  out  with  Kitty,  to  receive  a  glowing 
account  of  a  gallop  with  "  Cousin  Lacy  "  when  she  returned.  But 
Nellie  got  only  donkey  rides  on  the  Downs. 

Thus  matters  stood  one  bright  day  in  the  summer.  The  ladies 
and  Mr.  Harwood  went  to  Bath  to  explore  that  ancient  city. 
Kitty  was  left  with  Nellie,  to  spend  the  day  at  Vincent  Lodge,  or 
on  the  Downs,  or  in  a  drive,  or,  in  fact,  according  to  Miss  Nellie's 
fancies,  whatever  they  might  be.  The  carriage  was  to  meet  the 
last  train  from  Bath,  in  the  late  afternoon. 

It  was  a  late  dinner  hour  when  they  returned.  Lady  Lacy 
inquired  for  Nellie.  She  had  gone  out  with  Kitty,  soon  after 
noon,  and  had  not  returned.  They  had  gone  to  the  Downs.  The 
coachman  saw  them  there  at  three  o'clock.  He  had  been  to  Clif 
ton,  and  was  walking  out  to  the  lodge  to  prepare  for  his  drive  to 
the  station  in  Bristol.  Nellie  was  on.  a  donkey  and  Kitty  walking 
beside  her.  It  was  growing  dark,  and  it  was  time  Nellie  was 
asleep.  The  rector  volunteered  to  go  in  search  of  them,  and  no 
one  opposed  his  departure.  When  he  came  back,  nearly  two 
hours  later,  the  whole  household  was  thoroughly  miserable. 

He  had  been  all  over  the  Downs,  but  could  find  no  traces  of 
them.  Some  policemen  had  seen  them,  and  the  donkey  boys  had 
seen  them,  but  all  the  accounts  terminated  about  the  same  hour 
that  the  coachman  named— three  o'clock.  He  was  recalled,  and 
closely  questioned,  but  no  new  information  was  elicited. 

The  rector  was  terribly  alarmed  and  anxious,  but  he  strove  to 
keep  a  cheerful  countenance,  for  Eet's  sake.  Miss  Tarn  worth 
went  to  bed,  prostrated  and  heart-broken.  Lady  Lacy  was  the 
only  calm  individual  in  the  house,  and  she  put  direct  questions  to 
Parson  Johnny  as  to  the  extent  and  direction  of  his  search.  Then 


NELLIE  LOST.  227 

he  told  her  that  he  had  had  a  dozen  men  scouring  the  country 
within  four  or  five  miles  of  the  locality  where  the  child  had  last 
been  seen.  It  was  at  the  foot  of  the  observatory,  on  the  cliff, 
where  the  donkeys  had  been  dismissed,  and  Kitty  and  Nellie  had 
walked  leisurely  down  towards  Clifton.  One  man  had  brought  the 
information  that  a  woman  and  child,  answering  the  description 
given,  had  been  seen  going  down  the  zig-zag,  a  little  later. 

"I  assure  you,  sister,"  said  the  rector,  "that  this  pathway  is 
entirely  safe.  I  went  from  the  top  to  the  bottom  myself,  and  if 
Nellie  went  down  there,  she  went  safely.  Besides,  if  there  had 
been  any  accident  I  should  have  heard  of  it.  Half  of  Clifton 
knows  of  the  child's  loss  by  this  time,  and  the  search  has  been 
thorough." 

"  What  do  you  think  has  become  of  her,  Johnny  ?"  said  his  sis 
ter,  steadily.  "  Do  not  be  afraid  to  tell  me  your  exact  thought." 

"Dear  Eet,  I  am  totally  bewildered!  While  I  am  confident 
that  no  serious  harm  has  happened,  the  mere  fact  that  I  don't 
know  where  to  look  for  her,  demoralizes  me  entirely.  I  cannot 
suggest  the  next  step.  Oh !  if  I  could  only  get  Swiss !" 

"  Go  to  Clifton,  brother,  and  telegraph  for  him  instantly,"  she 
replied.  He  started  up,  and  seized  his  hat.  "  Stay,"  she  con 
tinued,  "  you  are  more  excited  than  I.  Here  are  some  blanks.  I 
will  write  the  despatch.  Jane,  tell  the  coachman  to  bring  the 
carriage  to  the  door  as  speedily  as  possible,"  and  she  sat  down  at 
an  escritoire  and  with  a  firm  hand  wrote  the  telegram.  "  Pray 
see  that  it  goes  at  once,  yourself.  If  Mr.  Barston  gets  it  to-night, 
he  can  be  here  in  the  morning.  There  is  the  carriage !  away  with 


you 


ra 


Throwing  her  an  admiring  glance,  Mr.  Harwood  hastened  to  the 
carriage,  which  drove  down  the  gravelled  road  at  a  rapid  rate. 
As  the  sound  of  the  wheels  died  away,  llet  fell  on  her  knees  and 
prayed  as  she  had  never  prayed  before.  And  when  she  lifted  her 
wan  face,  wet  with  tears,  there  was  a  touch  of  comfort  in  her 
countenance. 

"  If  mortal  man  can  find  her,  lie  can.  If  wisdom  and  courage 
;in<l  undying  energy  can  accomplish  anything,  he  will  bring  her 
back.  And  if  he  does !  If  he  restores  my  baby  to  my  arms  ag;iin, 
I  will  deny  him  nothing  that  he  can  ask.  I  will  be  his  slave  while 
life  endures,  if  lie  wants  a  slave.  And  if  he  asks  me  to  bo  his  wife 
again,  I  will  marry  him  !  I  will  do  it,  if  I  am  convinced  that  he 
stole  them !" 


228  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

OHAPTEE    XLIV. 

ANOTHER  VOYAGE. 

ME.  BAESTON  was  enjoying  otium  cum  digniiate  in  the  library 
at  Oakland.  He  had  dined  solus,  and  rather  late.  Too  much 
coffee  after  dinner  made  him  wakeful.  So  he  sat  and  smoked,  and 
read  a  treatise  upon  magnetic  clairvoyance,  in  very  choice  French. 
It  was  a  new  book,  and  he  was  so  much  interested,  that  he  did  not 
notice  the  entrance  of  the  servant,  who  coughed  and  spluttered 
and  did  all  he  could  to  attract  his  attention. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  he  said  at  length — "  Mr.  Macdower  is  in  the 
hall." 

"  What !"  said  Barston,  starting  up — "  bring  him  in  at  once ! 
Why  did  you  keep  him  waiting  there  ?" 

"  Thought  you  were  gone  to  bed,  sir.  I'll  show  him  in,  sir,"  and 
he  vanished. 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Macdower — why,  what  is  the  matter  ?  A  tele 
gram  !  shall  I  read  it  f ' 

"Yes.    It  will  explain  my  unseasonable  visit." 

Barston  unfolded  the  paper,  with  a  vague  presentiment  of  evil, 
and  read: 

"From  John  Harwood,  Clifton,  Bristol,  to  Eev'd  Andrew  Mac 
dower,  Lavington.  Find  Lacy  Barston  instantly  and  say  that 
Nellie  is  lost,  and  Lady  Lacy  begs  him  to  come  immediately.  Get 
this  message  to  him  at  any  expense,  without  delay." 

Barston  read  it  twice,  carefully. 

"  How  did  you  come,  Mr.  Macdower?" 

"  In  a  cab." 

"  Gibson,  put  some  things  in  my  portmanteau.  Here !  You 
may  as  well  put  these  cigars  in — all  of  them.  Stay !  leave  me  half 
a  dozen.  Will  you  have  one,  Mr.  Macdower  ?  No  ?  Gibson,  if 
the  portmanteau  is  not  ready  in  five  minutes,"  and  he  looked  at 
his  watch,  "  I  shall  go  without  it.  Will  you  take  my  place  here, 
Mr.  Macdower  ?  I  must  take  your  cab." 

"No.    I  must  return.    What  is  your  purpose  ?" 

"  There  is  a  train  that  passes  Lavington  at  one  o'clock.  I  am 
going  to  Bristol  in  that." 

"  There  is  a  seat  in  my  cab.  Here  is  the  portmanteau.  We 
have  no  time  to  spare.  Come  on." 


ANOTHER    VOYAGE.  229 

"  Cabby,"  said  Barston,  as  he  entered  the  vehicle,  "  if  you  set  us 
down  at  Lavington  station  within  forty-five  minutes,  you  shall 
name  your  fare." 

"  Fifteen  shillins,  sir  F  said  cabby. 

"  Here  is  a  sovereign.    Earn  it  F 

There  were  five  minutes  to  spare.  Barston  obtained  his  ticket, 
lighted  a  cigar  and  waited.  The  south  train  glided  into  the  station 
precisely  at  one  o'clock.  The  porter  ran  along  the  line  of  carriages, 
followed  by  Barston,  looking  for  a  smoking  compartment. 

"  Not  one  smoking  carriage,  sir  !    Not  even  second  class." 

"  Then  1  shall  ride  third  class  to  the  next  stop  at  least,"  replied 
Swiss.  "  Here  is  a  carriage,  and  a  gentleman  in  it  enjoying  his 
pipe.  In  we  go,"  and  the  train  plunged  into  the  night  again  with 
a  shriek. 

Our  friend  smoked  and  meditated.  It  would  be  bright  day 
light  when  they  reached  Bristol.  What  was  the  first  thing  to  be 
done?  The  odour  of  his  neighbour's  pipe  was  not  agreeable. 
Therefore,  the  first  thing  was  to  get  him  to  put  it  out,  and  take  a 
cigar  instead. 

"  My  friend,"  he  said,  politely,  "  your  tobacco  is  so  strong  that 
the  fumes  affect  my  head!  No  doubt  the  quality  is  excellent. 
But  if  you  will  oblige  me  by  substituting  this  cigar " 

"  Ay,  ay,  Master  Barston  F  said  the  other.  "  I've  had  some  of 
your  cigars  before  to-night — on  the  coast  of  Spencerland  and 
under  the  equator  I" 

"Why,  Mobby!  I  left  you  first  mate  on  board  Spencer's  ship 
— how  long  ago  ?  I  am  glad  to  see  you  again." 

"  I'm  cappen  of  my  own  ship  now,  sir,"  said  the  sailor,  shaking 
hands  with  his  old  shipmate,  "  leastways  of  a  tugboat,  and  two- 
thirds  owner,  too.  I'm  done  with  long  v'yages." 

"  ^Vhe^e  is  your  vessel,  Mobby  f"  inquired  Barston. 

"  On  the  Avon,  sir,  at  Bristol." 

"  We  have  had  some  rough  experiences  together,  Mobby,"  said 
Mr.  Barston.  "  Do  you  remember  the  high  peak  where  we  win 
tered  r 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir  1"  replied  the  sailor,  "  and  I  remember  seeing  you 
on  top  of  it,  in  the  moonlight,  poking  at  its  bald  head  with  your 
Alpenstock." 

"  Yes !  I  cut  some  letters  there.  He  will  be  a  good  climber 
who  erases  that  record  1  AVhcn  did  you  leave  Bristol  t" 

"  Yesterday.    I  towed  a  new  steamer  out  to  the  Channel— the 


230  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

Pallas.  She  is  going  directly  to  New  York.  She  is  a  fine  ship. 
Got  aground  in  the  Avon.  Had  to  wait  for  the  tide.  That  river 
is  worse  than  the  currents  we  used  to  get  in  the  high  latitudes. 
Do  you  remember  the  old  berg,  sir,  that  went  out  to  sea  that 
night,  ploughing  its  way  through  the  floe  ?  We  went  out  in  his 
wake,  you  know  P 

"  I  remember,"  answered  Barston,  thoughtfully ;  "  we  had  all 
thought  that  old  berg  our  great  enemy.  We  were  between  him 
and  the  rock,  and  we  feared  the  power  of  the  current.  You  see 
he  was  our  friend  after  all,  opening  egress  from  our  ice  prison. 
We  parted  from  him  at  sunrise,  and  stood  out  to  sea !" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  that  was  Providence,  you>  said.  Well,  Providence 
got  the  Pallas  aground  yesterday  just  to  oblige  a  chap  who  had 
left  his  wife  and  babby." 

"  Ah  !"  said  Barston. 

"Yes,  sir!  It  was  a  rum  go,  altogether.  When  the  ship 
grounded  my  cable  was  taut.  I  found  she  would  not  come,  so  I 
jumped  ashore  to  help  the  boys  shove  her  off  the  bank.  You  see 
I  knew  how  them  currents  ran,  and  the  ship's  officers  were  chat 
tering  like  a  lot  of  Frenchmen.  While  I  was  working  about,  this 
chap  slipped  over  the  side  and  got  his  wife  and  babby.  They 
were  on  the  bank." 

"  Surely  he  did  not  expect  them  to  be  there?"  said  Barston. 

"  No,  sir ;  it  was  a  reg'lar  surprise.  But  he  took  them  aboard 
with  him,  and  the  Pallas  was  soon  afloat  again.  It  was  all  plain 
sailing  then,  and  I  left  my  mate  to  take  her  to  the  channel,  as  I 
had  to  go  to  Exeter.  Are  you  going  to  Bristol  or  Clifton,  sir  P 

"  Yes ;  to  both  places." 

"Well,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Mobby,  fumbling  in  his  pockets,  "the 
babby  dropped  a  trinket  on  the  bank.  Leastways  I  picked  it  up 
where  she  had  been  standing,  the  little  hangel!  She  was  as 
purty  as  a  picter !  I  thought  you  might  find  some  of  her  people, 
maybe.  Would  you  mind  taking  the  toy  P 

"  You  had  better  keep  it,  Mobby.  It  is  not  likely  that  I  could 
find  any  of  the  child's  kin.  My  stay  is  very  uncertain.  You  will 
perhaps  hear  something  about  it  when  the  ship  returns.  Is  it 
very  valuable  P 

"  It  is  only  a  bit  of  coral,  sir.  Here  it  is !  Little  Nellie  will 
miss  it " 

"  Little  what !"  said  Barston,  taking  the  bracelet,  and  devouring 
it  with  his  eyes  by  the  dim  light  of  the  lamp  in  the  car  roof. 


ANOTHER    VOYAGE.  231 

"  Yon  chap  called  her  '  Nellie  '- 

"  What  was  he  like  f '  said  Barston,  with  bated  breath. 

"  Oh,  he  was  a  swell  chap.  Had  on  fine  toggery  and  kid  gloves. 
Had  a  cut  on  his  face  that  spoiled  his  beauty.  But  his  wife 
seemed  very  fond  of  him.  I  saw  her  hanging  on  his  arm  after 
they  got  aboard.  She  was  afeard  the  child  would  be  scared  at 
the  ship.  But  not  a  bit  of  it !  She  was  bold  as  brass !  Her 
father  took  her  up  and  said,  l  Nellie,  do  you  want  to  go  on  the  big 
ship  f  and  she  clapped  her  little  hands  and  said,  '  Yes,  yes !'  The 
little  hangel !  I've  been  thinking  of  her  twenty  times  to-day." 

"  So  have  I,"  replied  Swiss.    "  I  think  I  know  her." 

"  Do  you?  Well,  that's  jolly!  You  will  keep  the  bracelet  then, 
sir?" 

"  Yes.  Did  you  hear  nothing  about  the  woman  and  child  being 
missed  P  inquired  Mr.  Barston. 

"No,  sir;  I  came  directly  to  Bristol  and  took  the  train  to 
Exeter.  It  was  a  rum  go  !  I  have  thought  since  that  yon  chap 
was  after  running  off  to  America  to  get  rid  of  his  wife  and  babby. 
It  was  a  quare  start !  His  wife  was  very  much  astonished  to  see 
him.  And  it  was  a  very  unlikely  place  for  them  to  be  there  under 
the  bank.  They  must  have  walked  down  there  from  the  foot  of 
the  zig-zag.  Do  you  happen  to  know  the  chap's  name,  sir  F 

"  I  think  he  is  called  Butler,"  replied  Barston. 

"  That's  it !  I  had  forgotten ;  but  I  heard  the  cappen  say 
'Good  eveniu',  Mrs.  Butler,'  when  she  went  aboard.  By  the  bye, 
the  Pallas  sailed  twelve  hours  before  her  time.  Mebbe  yon  chap 
intended  to  take  his  wife,  after  all.'1 

Mr.  Barstou  had  arrived  at  a  conclusion.  It  was  all  plain  to 
him.  Butler  had  taken  Kitty  and  Nellie  to  America.  He  knew 
the  bracelet,  which  he  had  given  the  child  at  Stirling ;  and  But 
ler's  hatred  of  all  the  Harwoods,  and  his  malignant  character, 
would  account  for  his  abduction  of  Nellie.  Only  one  thing  was  to 
be  done — to  follow. 

"Captain,  how  can  I  get  to  America  most  rapidly?"  ho  said, 
after  an  hour's  silence,  in  which  his  thoughts  had  been  busy. 

"Take  the  Princess  this  morain',  sir,"  answered  the  sailor 
promptly.  "Tide  will  be  three  quarters  flood  at  daylight.  She 
will  sail  at  or  near  seven  o'clock.  She  goes  to  Cork,  and  you  will 
be  certain  to  overhaul  to-day's  Cunanlcr  in  Cork  harbour.  By  to 
morrow  night  you  will  be  off  Cape  Clear." 

"  It  is  settled,  then,"  said  Barston,  decidedly.     "  My  dear 


232  TEE  LACT  DIAMONDS. 

Mobby,  I  have  given  you  many  lectures  upon  Providence.  Hear 
one  more.  I  have  a  first  class  ticket  in  my  pocket,  but  I  could 
not  get  a  smoking  carriage,  and  the  guard  put  me  in  here ;  and 
so  I  have  had  your  agreeable  company  and  obtained  valuable 
information  from  you,  which  would  not  have  happened  if  I  had 
not  obstinately  resolved  to  have  my  cigar,  though  I  had  to  relin 
quish  cushioned  seats  and  probably  a  comfortable  nap.  Now  I 
would  have  given  twenty  thousand  pounds  for  your  touching 
little  history  of  that  encounter  on  the  banks  of  the  Avon  if  I  could 
not  have  obtained  it  cheaper.  And  you  have  awakened  so  keen 
an  interest  in  my  heart  in  that  little  girl  that  I  am  going  to  Amer 
ica  to-day,  simply  to  find  her ;  and  I  may  add,"  he  continued, 
through  his  teeth,  ll  I  shall  never  return  until  I  do  find  her.  And 
if  you  will  excuse  me  I  will  try  to  get  a  small  nap  in  this  corner. 
Take  another  cigar,  captain." 

In  two  minutes  Swiss  was  asleep. 

"  I've  told  Cappen  Spencer  a  hundred  times,"  said  Mr.  Mobby 
to  himself,  "  that  Mr.  Barston  was  a  reg'lar  loonatick !  He  is  a 
jolly  good  gentleman,  and  his  cigars  are  prime  A  1.  But  if  he 
ain't  a  loonatick  I  want  to  see  one !  Twenty  thousand  pounds  to 
hear  me  talk !  And  when  he  said  his  heart  was  in  love  with  that 
precious  babby  he  was  a  gritten  his  teeth.  He's  a  reg'lar  loonatick 
or  I'm  bio  wed  !"  In  giving  the  sleeper  this  title  he  always  accented 
the  penultimate. 

Then  the  captain  put  his  unlighted  cigar  carefully  away  in  his 
pouch  and  fell  asleep  in  his  corner. 


CHAPTER   XLY. 
ADIEU! 

HpHEEE  was  very  little  sleeping  done  at  Vincent  Lodge  that 
I  night.  Messengers  came  at  all  hours,  with  the  same  dismal 
report,  "  no  tidings,"  and  Lady  Lacy  spent  the  weary  hours  in 
constructing  hypotheses  to  account  for  the  absence  of  Kitty  and 
the  child.  If  Barstoii  had  thought  of  it,  he  might  have  enlarged 
upon  the  kind  Providence  that  led  Mobby  to  the  spot  where  the 
bracelet  was  found,  instead  of  allowing  some  one  of  the  searchers 
to  find  it.  As  no  one  had  seen  the  embarkation  of  the  child  and 


ADIEU!  233 

her  nurse  excepting  the  people  on  the  ship,  now  steaming  down  the 
channel,  or  those  on  the  tug,  now  ploughing  her  way  back  from  the 
mouth  of  the  Avon,  the  conclusion  would  have  been  irresistible 
that  both  Kitty  and  Nellie  were  drowned. 

Lady  Lacy  consulted  time  tables,  and  had  fixed  in  her  mind  the 
hours  at  which  Mr.  Barstoii  might  possibly  arrive.  If  he  received 
the  despatch  without  delay,  the  earliest  possibility  was  the  ap 
proaching  dawn.  The  more  she  thought  of  him  the  more  she 
expected  him  to  restore  Nellie.  She  recalled  stories  she  had  heard 
of  his  prowess,  and  there  were  not  a  few  of  them ;  and  in  spite  of 
the  harrowing  anxiety  that  tortured  her,  she  found  her  hopes 
reviving  as  the  gray  light  began  to  appear  in  the  eastern  horizon. 

It  was  only  a  possibility  that  all  had  gone  smoothly,  and  that 
he  would  come  with  the  sun,  but  she  put  a  waterproof  cloak  on, 
drew  the  hood  over  her  head,  and  walked  down  the  drive  and  out 
upon  the  Clifton  road.  As  she  passed  through  the  hall  she  saw 
the  rector  sitting  at  the  table,  his  head  resting  on  his  arm,  asleep. 
He  had  been  watching  there  all  night,  and  the  fatigue  had  over 
come  him  at  last. 

Down  the  Clifton  road  all  was  blank.  There  were  stripes  of 
orange  and  pink  in  the  sky  over  the  little  hillock  that  bounded 
her  view.  Then  the  orange  faded  and  the  pink  grew  into  crimson. 
Then 

"  Up  leaped  of  a  sudden  the  sun," 

and  something  appeared  against  his  lurid  disc.  It  was  a  vehicle 
approaching  at  a  rapid  rate. 

Lady  Lacy  drew  aside  as  it  came  near.  It  was  a  Hansom  cab, 
empty ! 

While  she  was  choking  down  her  disappointment  with  a  sob, 
the  driver  pulled  up  his  panting  horse  at  the  gate  and  touched 
his  hat  to  her. 

"  Vincent  Lodge,  mum  f  he  said. 

"  Yes,  where  are  you  from  f    What  have  you  to  tell  ?" 

"  Nothin',  mum !  I  on'y  want  to  speak  to  Lady  Lacy." 

"  I  am  she,"  said  Ket,  throwing  back  her  hood,  "  speak  quickly, 
man,  if  you  do  not  wish  to  drive  me  mad !" 

"  Beg  pardiug,  my  lady,"  returned  cabby,  "  but  the  gent  said  I 
was  to  go  to  the  'ouse  and  give  the  letter  to  Lady  Lacy  her 
self .» 

"  Mr.  Barston  F  said  she,  with  a  flush  of  joy  spreading  over  her 
face. 


234  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Yes,  my  lady.  It  is  all  right  if  you  know  who  sent  it.  Here 
is  the  letter.  He  told  me  to  wait." 

She  made  an  assenting  motion  with  her  hand,  took  the  letter, 
and  re-entering  the  grounds,  sat  down  on  a  garden  seat  near  the 
gate  and  tore  the  envelope  open.  Something  dropped  out  and 
fell  at  her  feet.  With  a  low  cry  she  snatched  it  up  and 
covered  it  with  kisses.  It  was  Nellie's  bracelet.  And  while  the 
fast  flowing  tears  which  fell  like  heavenly  dew  from  her  aching- 
eyes  dimmed  her  sight,  she  read  the  letter.  You  have  peeped 
over  her  shoulder  before,  reader.  Do  it  again. 

"BRISTOL — ON  BOARD  THE  'PRINCESS,' 
"  6  O'CLOCK,  A.  M. 

"  MY  LADY — I  have  traces  of  Nellie;  nay,  I  know  where  she  is, 
and  that  she  is  safe!  I  enclose  her  bracelet  by  way  of  proof. 
She  is  safe  and  well.  Be  comforted,  oh  mourner !  Do  not  repine 
at  delay  that  cannot  be  avoided.  Let  the  one  thought  possess 
you.  She  is  safe  and  well,  and  I  am  about  to  cross  the  ocean  to 
regain  her  and  restore  her  to  you. 

"  Butler  married  Kitty  at  Stirling.  Did  you  know  it?  He  met 
her  and  Nellie  at  the  foot  of  the  cliif  yesterday — I  suppose  at  the 
upper  end  of  Clifton.  He  was  on  board  the  ship  Pallas,  bound 
for  New  York,  and  while  the  vessel  was  accidentally  detained, 
being  aground,  he  took  Kitty  and  the  child  aboard,  and  they  are 
two  days  ahead  of  me.  I  shall  catch  to-day's  Cuuarder,  from  Liver 
pool,  at  Queenstown,  where  I  shall  be  to-night,  and  if  the  same 
overruling  Providence  that  revealed  this  much  to  me  by  a  half 
miracle  will  still  befriend  us,  I  shall  arrive  in  New  York  almost 
if  not  quite  as  soon  as  the  Pallas.  Is  it  necessary  to  say  that  I 
will  never  return  without  Nellie — that  I  will  hunt  every  possible 
locality — that  I  will  leave  no  means  untried,  no  agency  unem 
ployed,  that  has  the  feeblest  prospect  of  success  P 

"  Trust  the  Providence !  Two  years  ago  I  was  driven  to  America 
by  dire  calamity  and  distress,  and  while  there  I  learned  some  of 
Butler's  haunts.  I  have  the  most  sanguine  expectation  of  finding 
him  and  Nellie  quickly.  Do  not  doubt  it. 

"I  am  writing  very  hurriedly,  as  the  ship  sails  immediately. 
May  I  say  one  word  ?  You  will  be  praying  sometimes  that  Nellie 
may  be  restored  to  you ;  will  you  please  add  a  little  petition  in  be 
half  of  her  searcher  ? 

"LACY  BARSTON." 


ADIEU.  235 

"  P.  S. — I  told  cabby  that  you  would  perhaps  drive  to  the 
Downs,  and  let  me  see  you  as  the  ship  passes — say  at  the  foot  of 
the  observatory.  It  has  been  two  years  since  I  saw  you,  and  it 
would  comfort  me  no  little  if  nay  last  look  might  rest  upon  you. 
I  ventured  to  order  him  to  wait  until  you  read  this  missive." 

"  Oh,  my  darling !"  said  Lady  Lacy,  kissing  the  bracelet  once 
more.  "  I  shall  see  you  again !  My  love,  my  love  !"  and  in  her 
confusion  she  got  the  bracelet  and  the  letter  mixed,  and  kissed 
them  both.  Then  she  hurried  out  to  the  road  and  entered  the  cab. 

"  Drive  to  the  Downs,"  she  said ;  "  no  time  to  lose !" 

Seated  on  the  bench  below  the  observatory  she  could  see  a 
long  stretch  of  the  river,  up  and  down.  Far  down  towards  the 
channel  there  was  a  tug  coming  up  rapidly  with  the  flood  tide. 
The  high  bank  hid  the  upper  part  of  the  river,  trending  north 
ward,  and  she  kept  her  gaze  riveted  upon  the  point  where  the 
Cork  steamer  must  appear.  Presently  the  prow  was  projected 
beyond  the  bank,  then  the  foremast,  then  the  slowly  revolving 
paddles,  and  finally  the  whole  vessel  appeared  less  than  a  mile 
from  her  elevated  perch.  She  started  up,  throwing  off  her  hood, 
and  the  rays  of  the  morning  sun  were  glinted  back  from  her 
beautiful  hair,  as  she  stood  like  a  lovely  statue  upon  the  bald 
rock  at  the  base  of  the  observatory.  Upon  the  paddle-box  of  the 
steamer  now  gliding  by  stood  Lacy  Barstou,  his  arms  stretched 
upwards  towards  her.  She  kissed  her  hand  to  him  again  and 
again,  trying  to  think  of  some  gesture  that  would  show  him  her 
gratitude  and  admiration,  and  wondering  at  her  own  stupidity, 
while  her  lover  stood  watching  her,  his  arms  uplifted,  until  the 
ship  passed  out  of  sight.  And  in  their  after  lives  both  of  them 
often  recalled  that  mute  adieu  and  thanked  heaven  for  the  com 
fort  they  found  in  it. 

When  the  cab  reached  the  entrance  to  Vincent  Lodge,  Lady 
Lacy  produced  her  purse. 

"  I'm  paid,  mum  !  beg  pardiug,  your  ladyship!  Muster  Barston 
paid  mo  for  the  whole  job." 

"  How  much  'v  said  she. 

"  A  sov'run,  mum,  your  ladyship." 

"  IIciv  is  another.  And  if  you  ever  need  assistance  come  to  me 
and  get  it,"  and  she  entered  the  grounds,  robbing  cabby  of  the 
most  perfect  vision  of  loveliness  that  his  eyes  had  ever  seen. 

The  rector  was  at  the  door,  looking  with  amazement  at  her 


236  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

cheerful  countenance  as  she  approached.  She  put  Barston's  note 
in  his  hand,  and  waited  while  he  read  it. 

"Hurrah!"  shouted  Parson  Johnny,  throwing  up  his  hat. 
"  Swiss  after  her ! '  Ret,  my  darling  sister,  kiss  me !  I  tell  you, 
Eet,  there  is  no  man  on  this  planet  to  compare  with  Swiss !  He 
is  as  certain  to  find  Nellie  as  if  she  were  hidden  in  this  hall.  He 
is  relentless  as  death,  and  will  hunt  America  over  on  his  hands 
and  knees  before  he  relinquishes  his  search.  Trust  Providence, 
and  trust  Swiss!  Come,  are  you  going  to  the  Downs,  as  he 
requests  P 

"  No,"  she  answered,  composedly,  taking  her  letter  back. 

"No!    Why,  Eet f 

"  It  is  too  late,  Johnny.  The  ship  sailed  at  daylight ;  it  is  now 
seven  o'clock.  I  must  run  to  Clare  with  the  news." 

"  Well,"  said  the  discontented  parson,  as  she  flitted  out  of  the 
hall,  "  women  are  <•  kittle  cattle,'  as  the  Scotch  say.  Now,  a  man 
with  one  spark  of  gratitude  in  his  body,  would  get  a  horse  and 
ride  down  to  the  mouth  of  the  river  to  say  good-bye  to  a  fellow 
under  these  circumstances.  Poor  old  Swiss !" 

While  the  trio  were  at  breakfast,  a  messenger  arrived  with  a 
note  for  Lady  Lacy.  It  was  as  follows : 

"From  the  ex-gamekeeper  to  lier  high  and  mighty  ladyship  of  the 

Harwood  blood.     Greeting  : 

"  I  have  taken  my  wife  from  under  the  protection  of  your  lady 
ship.  She  had  your  child  in  charge,  and  could  not  leave  her  on 
the  river  bank.  It  was  no  part  of  my  purpose  to  take  the  child, 
and  she  shall  suffer  no  harm.  You  may  know  this,  as  she  will  be 
under  Kitty's  care  until  we  can  get  her  back  to  you.  As  she  is 
only  half  Harwood,  I  can  forgive  her  that  misfortune  for  the  sake 
of  the  better  blood  in  her  veins.  I  write  this,  not  to  relieve  your 
anxiety,  but  because  I  promised  my  wife,  and  am  not  in  the  habit 
of  lying." 

" How  did  this  come!"  said  the  rector,  starting  up. 

"  A  lad  brought  it,  sir,"  answered  the  servant.  "  He  says  it  was 
given  him  by  the  captain  of  a  tug-boat,  at  the  foot  of  the  zigzag." 

The  rector  found  the  boy  at  the  door,  who  told  the  same  story. 
A  man  on  board  the  tug  had  thrown  the  note,  tied  to  a  lump  of 
coal,  ashore,  and  told  the  boy  he  would  get  half-a-crowu  for  taking 
it  to  Vincent  Lodge. 

"  An'  I  vants  the  arf-crown,  please  sir !"  said  the  urchin. 

And  the  Parson  paid  it. 


ON  TEE  TRACK.  237 


CHAPTEK    XLYI. 
ON  THE  TRACK. 

"DARSTON'S  first  question  when  he  landed  on  the  Cnnard 
-D  wharf  at  Jersey  City  related  to  the  Pallas.  A  custom  house 
official  informed  him  that  she  had  arrived  on  the  previous  day. 
The  wharf  was  crowded  with  passengers,  porters,  sailors  and 
custom  house  officers,  and  was  a  first  class  Babel.  After  some 
slight  delay,  Mr.  Barston,  committing  his  scanty  luggage  to  a 
hotel  porter,  escaped  from  the  whar/,  and  crossing  the  ferry,  was 
swallowed  up  in  the  crowds  of  the  American  metropolis.  He  had 
learned  the  locality  of  the  Pallas,  and  with  the  prompt  decision 
peculiar  to  the  man,  he  went  directly  to  the  pier  where  she  was 
discharging  cargo. 

When  he  boarded  the  steamer  at  Queenstown  he  was  not  Lacy 
Barston,  but  John  Smith.  It  had  occurred  to  him  that  the  New 
York  newspapers  published  a  list  of  passengers,  and  Mr.  Butler 
might  consult  them  and  find  his  name,  and  make  his  search  more 
difficult.  This  habit  of  considering  all  minor  details  was  another 
peculiarity.  He  incurred  the  risk  of  encountering  some  acquaint 
ance  on  the  steamer,  but  it  happened  that  all  were  strangers  to 
him. 

He  found  the  purser  on  board  the  Pallas,  and  obtained  his 
stock  of  information  in  a  few  minutes. 

Mr.  Butler  hud  started  with  them  from  Bristol.  The  ship  had 
grounded  in  the  Avon,  and  Mrs.  Butler  and  the  child  happened  to 
be  on  the  bank.  "  It  was  a  touch  and  go  business,"  the  purser 
said.  They  had  bad  a  good  passage,  and  the  little  girl  was  the 
idol  of  the  ship.  Her  parents  had  kept  her  jealously  with  them, 
and  were  disinclined  to  allow  any  conversation  with  the  bright 
little  angel.  He  could  not  say  positively  where  they  had  gone,  but 
he  thought  to  Chicago.  Mr.  Butler  had  asked  a  great  number  of 
questions  about  the  West,  and  the  purser  knew  that  they  had 
started  from  the  Pallas  for  one  of  the  railways.  He  thought  it 
was  the  Erie. 

This  was  all.  Hunting  for  a  needle  in  a  haystack  was  a  prom 
ising  occupation  in  comparison  with  an  expedition  to  Chicago  with 
the  very  insufficient  clue  the  purser  furnished.  Nevertheless,  it 


238  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

was  the  only  thing  to  be  done.  Mr.  Butler  was  twenty-four  hours 
ahead.  This  might  be  made  up  by^  express  travelling  night  and 
day.  There  was  no  train  until  six  o'clock,  so  Mr.  Smith  went  to 
his  hotel  and  dined.  He  had  provided  himself  with  all  needful 
funds  in  Cork,  and  now  exchanged  a  hundred  pounds  for  Ameri 
can  currency,  and  he  saw  the  sun  set  from  the  car  window  twenty 
miles  west  of  New  York. 

In  the  station  at  Chicago  on  the  second  day  Mr.  Smith  began 
his  explorations  with  patient  philosophy.  He  was  looking  for  a 
lady  and  gentleman  and  little  girl.  They  had  arrived  six,  twelve 
or  eighteen  hours  previously.  The  various  officials  he  questioned 
had  each  seen  the  very  party  he  described,  and  upon  cross-exam 
ination  each  gave  a  description  totally  at  variance  with  all  the 
rest  and  entirely  different  from  the  reality  that  Mr.  Smith.sought. 
One  gave  the  gentleman  red  hair  and  beard,  another  made  him 
quite  gray,  and  a  third  deprived  him  of  all  hirsute  adornments  by 
describing  his  head  as  "  smooth  as  a  pumpkin."  It  was  very  re 
markable  that  there  should  have  been  so  many  arrivals  of  trios  in 
less  than  one  day  and  that  they  should  have  been  so  dissimilar, 
each  from  the  rest.  He  went  to  a  hotel  and  wrote  a  cheerful 
letter  to  Parson  Johnny,  reporting  his  arrival  and  promising  a 
weekly  letter  thereafter  unless  he  should  get  out  of  the  reach  of 
mails.  He  recounted  such  portions  of  the  purser's  story  as  referred 
to  the  good  health  and  happiness  of  Nellie  with  great  care  for  the 
comfort  of  her  mother. 

He  spent  a  week  at  Chicago.  Particular  inquiry  at  every  hotel 
in  the  city  revealed  the  fact  that  Butler  had  not  been  in  any  of 
them.  He  must  go  elsewhere.  There  was  a  new  town  in  Kansas 
where  people  where  flocking,  "  especially  Britishers,"  and  he  would 
go  there  next.  Before  his  departure  he  wrote  his  second  letter, 
making  light  of  the  difficulties  and  warning  the  rector  that  "  there 
were  so  many  places  in  America,  and  the  distances  were  so  great 
between  them,  that  he  might  not  be  able  to  give  positive  informa 
tion  until  the  coming  spring."  He  thought,  however,  that  he  was 
on  the  track,  and  he  would  certainly  continue  the  search  until  he 
found  Nellie.  She  was  traced  positively  to  New  York,  and  the 
rest  was  only  a  matter  of  time.  "  If  I  only  knew,"  he  concluded, 
"  that  your  sister  was  patient  and  hopeful,  and  that  she  trusted 
my  sagacity  and  perseverance,  I  could  enjoy  every  part  of  my 
search,  even  its  frequent  disappointments,  for  I  know  I  shall  find 
my  darling  at  last,  and  I  am  willing  to  wait  the  developments  of 
Providence — Ebenezer !" 


ON  THE   TRACK.  239 

Arrived  at  New  Washington,  the  Kansas  metropolis  that  was 
to  be,  Mr.  Smith  renewed  his  inquiries,  and  here  he  fell  into  "  a 
famous  streak  of  luck,"  according  to  his  landlord's  opinion. 

There  was  a  party,  father,  mother  and  daughter,  and  the  latter 
was  named  Nelly,  that  had  arrived  and  departed  two  days  ago. 
They  were  in  haste  to  reach  their  destination,  which  was  a  farm 
out  on  the  "  peraira,"  and  the  landlord  had  only  had  a  glimpse  of 
them,  as  they  stopped  less  than  an  hour.  The  child  was  a  "  mighty 
spry  little  gal ;"  but  his  interlocutor  could  give  Mr.  Smith  nothing 
approaching  an  accurate  description.  They  had  come  from  New 
York,  as  he  knew  by  the  labels  on  their  baggage,  and  he  had  over 
heard  the  mother  call  the  child  "  Kelly."  They  certainly  went  to 
Carthagenia,  a  station  twenty  miles  distant,  and  their  farm  was  in 
the  vicinity  of  that  renowned  city.  Mr.  Smith  went  immediately 
to  Carthagenia. 

It  was  dark  night  when  he  arrived,  and  he  was  escorted  to  the 
hotel  by  a  man  carrying  a  lantern.  This  edilice  was  of  one  story, 
and  the  proprietor  had  not  had  time  to  adorn  it  as  much  as  he 
could  desire.  It  was  builded  of  logs  and  contained  four  apartments  j 
one  was  a  kitchen,  which  was  also  the  bar  room  and  the  dining  hall ; 
another  was  the  sleeping  apartment  of  the  host  and  his  partner 
in  distress ;  a  third  was  occupied  by  the  progeny  of  this  pair, 
numbering  "  seven  head,"  as  the  landlady  apprised  him  with  com 
mendable  pride,  and  the  fourth  was  the  guest  chamber,  and  already 
occupied  by  a  returned  soldier  who  had  "  got  hurted  in  the  war." 
Mr.  Smith  was  assured  that  this  warrior  would  share  his  couch 
with  him,  but  as  the  last  comer  thought  from  his  appearance  that 
he  would  probably  share  some  other  things,  he  rapidly  made  up  his 
mind  to  decline  the  favour.  He  cautiously  inquired  of  one  of  the 
seven  pledges  whether  there  were  "  many  hotels  "  in  Carthagenia, 
and  the  pledge,  with  untutored  hilarity  at  his  heathenish  ig 
norance,  informed  him  that  the  hotel  he  now  sat  in  and  the  rail 
way  station  were  the  only  buildings  of  which  Carthagenia  at 
present  boasted,  excepting  the  stable  attached  to  the  hotel. 

Mr.  Smith  had  encountered  some  rude  experiences  in  his  journey 
through  life,  but  this  seemed  to  him  a  little  more  desolate  than 
any  former  adventure.  He  was  a  smoker,  and  alter  a  supper  of 
fried  bacon,  Indian  corn-bread,  which  his  uneducated  palate  could 
not  appreciate,  and  muddy  coffee,  he  asked  permission  to  walk  out 
and  smoke. 

"  You  can  smoke  as  well  hyar,  stranger,"  said  the  mistress  of 
the  mansion.  "  None  of  us  objects  to  smoke  in  the  least." 


240  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

Thus  encouraged  Mr.  Smith  produced  his  cigar  case,  and 
politely  offering  one  to  the  wounded  veteran  and  one  to  his  host, 
they  were  soon  enveloped  in  a  fragrant  atmosphere,  the  more 
noticeable  from  the  contrast  it  afforded  to  the  prevalent  odour  of 
the  hotel. 

"Landlord,"  said  the  philosopher,  after  a  whiff  or  two,  "  I  have 
decided  to  sit  up  to-night,  with  your  permission.  I  slept  enor 
mously  last  night." 

"  Don't  see  why  you  can't  bunk  with  the  soger,"  replied  the 
landlord. 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  am  engaged  in  an  investigation  that  requires  a 
great  deal  of  patient  thought " 

"  You  can  think  in  bed,  I  guess." 

"  But  I  have  not  time  for  entomological  studies,  my  dear  sir," 
replied  Mr.  Smith,  coolly.  The  other  smokers  stared  at  him 
through  the  smoke.  The  big  word  vanquished  them. 

"Air  you  a  preacher?"  said  the  host,  after  a  pause. 

«  No." 

"  Air  you  a  doctor  F 

"  No.  I  have  dabbled  a  little  in  medical  lore,  but  I  do  not 
belong  to  the  profession." 

"  Air  you  looking  for  land  hereaway  V  persisted  the  host. 

"  No.  I  am  looking  for  a  lady  and  her  husband,  and  a  little 
girl  named  Nellie,  who  have  recently  arrived  in  this  neighbour 
hood  from  New  York — probably  two  days  ago." 

"  Yaas !"  responded  the  landlord,  "  that's  Sponder !  He  bought 
yon  farm  on  the  peraira.  It's  a  good  farm,  too.  Sponder  bought 
it  a  month  ago.  He  went  to  Noo  Yawk  after  his  wife  and  darter 
jist  two  weeks  ago.  The  little  one  is  a  spry  gal.  She  is  about  the 
size  of  my  Sally  thar,"  and  he  pointed  to  a  ten  year  old  pledge. 
"  Her  name  is  Nellie.  Her  har  is  as  black  as  the  dickens,  and  so 
is  her  eyes  !  He  got  here  night  before  last,  and  I  hauled  him  and 
his  plunder  out  to  his  farm." 

Mr.  Smith  smoked  quietly  for  several  minutes  and  meditated. 
The  description  so  rapidly  given  of  the  black-eyed  Nellie  did  not 
at  all  correspond  with  his  anticipations. 

"  Did  you  know  Mr.  Sponder  before  he  came  F  he  asked. 

"  Oh  yaas !  We  was  pardners  over  in  Illenoy  in  land  speckilla- 
tions.  He  has  been  here  off  and  on  a  dozen  times  this  summer." 
He  rose  as  he  spoke  and  lighted  a  lantern.  "  I  hear  the  down 
train  coming,  and  must  go  to  the  deep-o." 


ON  THE  EIGHT  TRACK.  241 

"I  will  go  with  yon,  landlord,"  said  Mr.  Smith.  "I  have 
decided  to  return  to  New  Washington.  Mr.  Sponder  is  evidently 
not  the  gentleman  I  seek.  Allow  rne  to  settle  for  my  entertain 
ment.  I  have  the  honour  to  bid  you  good  night,  inadame." 

It  was  raining  as  they  left  the  hotel.  The  wounded  warrior  sat 
stolidly  sucking  at  the  stump  of  his  cigar.  Over  the  roar  of  the 
approaching  train  the  hotel  inhabitants  Jieard  the  cheery  tones  of 
Mr.  Smith's  voice  singing  lustily, 

"  A  wet  sheet  and  a  flowing  sea, 
And  a  wind  that  follows  fast!" 

"  He  sings  prime  !"  said  the  warrior  decidedly,  "  and  his  cigars 
are  prime.  But  my  belief  is  that  he's  a  Johnny  Eeb,  and  he's 
after  no  good  up  hyar." 

"  Eeb  be  hanged !"  said  the  landlady,  "  what  put  that  notion  in 
your  head  f" 

u  Well,  ma'am,"  replied  the  soldier,  "  he  talks  jist  as  smooth  as 
grease ;  he  slings  his  cigars  about  as  if  they  was  made  of  Connec 
ticut  tobaccer  at  a  cent  a  piece  ;  he  gave  your  little  girl  a  dollar 
greenback — I  seed  him — and  he  is  so  bloody  polite !  I  tell  you, 
ma'am,  he's  a  Johnny  Eeb.  I  hev  bin  among  them  cattle,  and  I 
know  'em.  He's  a  Johnny  Eeb  1" 


OHAPTEE     XLVII. 
ON  THE  EIGHT  TRACK. 

nnHE  patience  with  which  Mr.  Smith  encountered  his  various 
J-  disappointments  was  very  remarkable.  In  his  weekly  letters 
to  his  friend  the  rector,  he  recounted  the  salient  points  in  his 
adventures,  and  always  had  a  new  theory  to  suggest  upon  which 
he  would  act  in  the  coming  week.  He  spent  the  entire  winter  in 
explorations  of  western  towns,  always  in  vain,  as  the  reader 
knows. 

He  was  at  Omaha  in  the  last  week  of  March,  and  pursuing  his 
steadfast  plan  of  asking  questions  whenever  he  could  find  an 
interlocutor  civil  enough  to  answer  him,  he  suddenly  fell  in  with 
the  only  man  in  America  who  could  have  given  him  the  informa 
tion  he  sought  He  was  a  "  switch  tender"  in  the  railway  station, 

1C 


242  TEE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

and  Mr.  Smith  found  him  because  he  made  it  an  invariable  rnle 
to  interrogate  every  railway  official  he  could  induce  to  listen  to 
and  answer  him.  This  one  was  a  countryman,  and  had  come  over 
in  the  Pallas  !  As  soon  as  Mr.  Smith  learned  this  fact  he  ascer 
tained  when  the  man  would  be  at  liberty,  and  invited  him  to 
meet  him  at  his  hotel  and  dine  with  him.  The  switchman  was 
punctual,  with  a  clean  face  and  decent  apparel — his  Sunday  suit, 
in  fact. 

They  had  dinner  in  a  private  room,  and  when  his  guest  was  as 
full  of  dinner  as  his  capacity  would  allow,  Mr.  Smith  pumped  him 
dry. 

He  knew  Butler  on  the  ship,  went  with  him  and  his  wife  and 
child  to  the  railway  station  in  New  York,  saw  him- buy  his  tickets 
and  saw  his  luggage  checked  to ,  a  town  in  New  Jersey  within 
forty  miles  of  New  York.  Mr.  Smith  pressed  a  twenty  dollar  note 
upon  his  countryman,  paid  his  hotel  bill,  and  started  the  same 
night  for  New  York. 

It  was  all  plain  sailing  now.  He  wrote  the  shortest  letter 
of  the  series  to  Mr.  Harwood,  full  of  joyful  anticipations,  and 
promising  full  details  a  week  later ;  and  when  he  arrived  at  the 
Jersey  village  he  suddenly  remembered  that  it  was  the  post-office 
address  given  him  by  Hawrder  the  year  before.  The  first  step  was 
to  find  Hawder. 

He  had  dressed  himself  in  homespun  garments,  which  he  had 
procured  in  the  West,  and  with  a  knapsack  on  his  back  he  began 
his  search  in  the  village.  The  post-master  informed  him  that 
Hawder  lived  a  few  miles  off,  and  directed  him  to  "  Baird's  Tav 
ern,"  whence  he  could  be  directed  to  Hawder's  residence  by  a 
straight  road.  It  was  afternoon,  horribly  inclement,  a  sharp  storm 
of  rain  mingled  with  sleet  was  progressing,  but  Mr.  Smith  reso 
lutely  set  out,  in  defiance  of  wind  and  weather. 

The  gentle  reader  is  thus  brought  to  the  opening  chapter  of  this 
truthful  history.  Before  midnight  Barston  knew  where  the  child 
was,  and  had  decided  accurately  how  to  gain  possession  of  her. 

He  went  to  Baird's  tavern,  where  Nellie,  totally  unconscious  of 
his  presence,  once  or  twice  flitted  momently  in  sight.  The  strong 
man  could  scarcely  restrain  himself  when  he  saw  her,  but  he  did. 
Near  midnight,  having  ascertained  where  she  slept,  he  got  a  lad 
der  from  the  stable  and  entered  her  room  from  the  window.  She 
was  asleep  in  her  crib,  and  kneeling  by  it  Barston  took  her  in  his 
arms  and  held  her  close  to  his  beating  heart.  He  pressed  his  lips 
to  hers  as  she  opened  her  eyes,  and  whispered: 


0.V  THE  BIGHT  TRACK  243 

"  Nellie,  Nellie !  my  darling,  don't  speak.  If  you  know  me, 
kiss  me  !" 

"Cousin  Lacy !"  said  the  child,  clinging  to  his  neck.  "  Oh,  take 
ine  to  mamma !" 

"  I  will,  my  precious  baby ;  but  don't  speak  above  a  whisper." 

He  had  a  railway  rug  on  his  arm,  and  wrapping  the  child  in  it 
after  he  had  enveloped  her  in  his  own  coat,  he  gathered  up  her 
clothing,  and  taking  her  in  his  arms  again  descended  the  ladder 
and  walked  swiftly  to  Hawder's  house.  When  he  arrived  there 
he  remembered  that  lie  had  been  cautioned  against  possible  con 
tagion,  and  alarmed  for  the  child  he  continued  his  walk,  crossing 
the  bridge  at  the  mouth  of  a  creek,  and  then  taking  the  high  road 
he  walked  a  dozen  miles  before  he  reached  a  railway  station. 
Here  he  found  a  little  fury  of  a  stove,  red  hot,  and  by  its  light  he 
dressed  the  happy  child  in  her  proper  garments.  A  freight  train, 
with  one  passenger  car  attached,  passed  the  station  as  the  dawn 
appeared,  and  a  little  after  sunrise  he  was  in  New  York. 

He  had  been  a  week  within  reach  of  Nellie  before  he  could 
accomplish  his  purpose.  Hawder  was  sick  of  enteric  fever,  and  he 
had  nursed  him  a  night  or  two.  Afterwards  he  was  baffled  once 
and  again  by  Butler's  watchfulness,  and  on  the  night  of  his  bold 
attempt  he  had  seen  this  worthy  drinking  himself  into  a  state  of 
utter  helplessness. 

It  was  Sunday  when  he  reached  New  York.  He  took  Nellie  to 
his  hotel  and  locked  himself  in  his  chamber  with  her ;  and  then 
his  manhood  deserted  him,  or  he  attained  a  new  advance  in  man 
hood,  whichever  the  reader  pleases.  He  threw  himself  on  the  bed 
and  burst  into  tears. 

Nothing  could  be  more  touching  or  more  charming  than  the  ten 
der  ministrations  of  the  little  fairy  he  had  rescued.  She  fluttered 
round  him,  cried  with  him,  kissed  him,  patted  his  cheek  with  her 
hand,  wiped  his  eyes  with  her  pinafore,  promised  him  unlimited 
good  things  when  they  got  home,  and  finally  got  him  to  sit  up 
and  take  her  on  his  knee. 

"My  darling,"  he  said,  "we  cannot  get  a  ship  for  throe  days, 
then  we  will  go  home.  But  you  cannot  be  out  of  my  uight  one 
solitary  minute  until  we  see  jour  mamma.  I  must  take  you 
wherever  I  go.  And  now  I  want  you  to  go  to  sleep  while  I  wash 
my  face  and  order  breakfast.  Don't  tell  anybody  that  you  saw 
me  crying." 

"No,  only  mamma." 


244  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

Lacy  blushed  like  a  girl.  "  My  dear,"  lie  said,  "  I  fear  you  have 
made  the  "worst  possible  exception." 

"  I  must  tell  mamma.  She  likes  me  to  tell  her  everything  about 
you." 

"Does  she?"  said  Swiss.  "  Well,  you  are  a  wise  little  woman, 
and  I  will  think  about  it.  Will  you  go  to  sleep  now  f 

"Yes.  Kiss  me  good  night.  Won't  we  have  a  good  ride  on 
Roland  when  we  get  home  !"  and  she  coiled  herself  up  in  the  bed 
and  was  asleep  in  five  minutes. 

Mr.  Barston  took  advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  resume  his 
ordinary  habiliments.  He  could  not  buy  any  garments  for  Nellie, 
as  it  was  Sunday,  so  he  spent  the  day  in  his  room  with  her.  She 
was  amiable,  and  allowed  him  to  smoke  ad  libitum. 

The  next  day  he  procured  all  the  attire  that  Nellie  needed,  and 
a  good  lot  that  she  did  not  need,  then  went  with  her  to  the  office 
of  the  steamship  company  and  secured  passage  for  Wednesday. 

On  the  next  day  he  took  Nellie  to  see  the  ship  and  arrange  their 
luggage.  He  had  bought  a  lot  of  toys,  which  filled  one  trunk,  and 
at  last  got  their  stateroom  arranged  to  his  satisfaction.  Before  he 
left  the  ship  he  learned  that  "Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barston"  were  going 
in  the  same  vessel,  and  that  they,  had  the  opposite  stateroom. 
Thinking  the  name  rather  peculiar,  he  drove  back  to  the  agent's 
office,  as  he  could  get  no  information  on  the  ship,  and  there  he 
learned  that  Mr.  Barston  was  a  very  nice  gentleman,  with  a  red 
scar  on  his  forehead.  Then  Mr.  Smith  asked  and  obtained  per 
mission  to  transfer  his  ticket  to  Mr.  Jones  and  son,  as  Mr.  Smith 
and  daughter  were  obliged  to  change  their  plans. 

The  rest  of  the  day  was  employed  in  procuring  a  new  set  of 
habiliments  for  Nellie,  and  explaining  to  her  why  the  disguise  was 
necessary.  He  did  not  dare  trust  Butler,  though  he  felt  certain 
that  he  would  not  interfere  with  the  return  of  the  child.  He  would 
not  wait  for  another  ship,  and  the  only  course  left  was  to  disguise 
himself  and  Nellie  both.  They  were  transformed  into  Mr.  Jones 
and  son  before  dark,  and  as  the  ship  was  to  sail  early  in  the  day, 
they  went  aboard  on  Tuesday  night. 

Captain  Strong  has  already  related  the  main  incidents  of  the 
passage.  Mr.  Jones  and  son  landed  at  Queenstown,  and  proceed 
ing  to  Dublin,  crossed  by  the  fast  mail  to  Holyhead,  and  reached 
London  the  next  morning.  Pausing  only  long  enough  to  ascertain 
that  Lady  Lacy  was  at  the  Red  Hall,  he  went  directly  to  Laving- 
ton.  As  he  and  Nellie  had  a  compartment  to  themselves,  he 


ON  THE  EIGHT  TRACK  245 

changed  her  dress  once  more,  though  he  had  no  opportunity  to 
resume  his  own  identity.  He  was  too  eager  to  wait,  and  on  the 
arrival  of  the  train  he  took  a  cab  and  drove  to  the  Bed  Hall  with 
all  possible  speed. 

His  last  letter  had  announced  Nellie  found,  and  Lady  Lacy, 
expecting  fuller  intelligence  by  the  mail  just  due,  was  driving 
into  Lavington,  hoping  to  find  letters  at  the  rectory.  Swiss  saw 
the  carriage  half  a  mile  distant.  A  sudden  fit  of  shyness  seized 
him,  and  stopping  his  vehicle,  he  kissed  Nellie,  wild  with  delight 
and  excitement,  set  her  out  on  the  roadside,  and  bade  his  jehu  re 
trace  his  steps.  He  looked  out  of  the  back  window  and  saw  the 
carriage  stop,  Nellie  fly  to  the  side,  and  clambering  up  the  steps, 
get  torn  into  bits  between  Miss  Tarn  worth  and  her  mother,  as  they 
fought  over  the  child  like  a  pair  of  raging  tigresses.  Then  the 
carriage  turned  backward  also,  and  as  it  disappeared  Mr.  Barston 
lighted  a  cigar  and  soliloquized: 

"  It  would  have  been  very  absurd  of  me  to  have  shown  myself 
to  those  lovely  women  in  this  sort  of  a  costume.  I  don't  think 
they  would  ever  get  over  the  shock  1  How  they  did  claw  my  poor 
little  baby !  How  their  precious  tongues  will  wag  the  rest  of  this 
day !  What  yarns  Nellie  will  spin !  Hum !  My  lady  likes  her  to 
talk  about  me,  does  she?  Well,  let  the  child  talk!  Ah,  Bet!" 
and  he  shook  his  fist  at  the  retreating  carriage — "  the  next  time 
we  meet,  you  will  be  mine — or,  by  the  three  kings,  I  will  steal 
Nellie  again  1"  and  he  laughed  gleefully. 

The  cabby  plodded  on  at  a  jog  trot.  He  had  earned  his  fare  by 
the  fast  driving  towards  the  lied  Hall.  The  "old  gent  "did  not 
care  to  get  back  so  rapidly,  so  he  would  take  his  time.  He  had 
no  special  directions,  but  concluded  the  old  gent  wished  to  go  to 
the  inn,  where  he  had  sent  his  luggage.  He  peeped  once  or  twice 
through  the  trap  in  the  roof,  but  could  only  see  the  outlines  of  the 
old  gent,  as  a  fine  cloud  of  smoke  enveloped  him.  He  seemed  to 
be  more  than  half  asleep.  But  the  inn  was  reached  at  last,  and 
when  the  old  gent  blundered  out,  and  into  the  sanded  common 
room,  he  very  nearly  upset  another  "  gent,"  who  was  not  so  old, 
and  was  quite  surprised  to  recognize  his  coinpagnon  de  voyage, 
the  soi  disant  Mr.  Barstou. 


246  TEE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 


CHAPTER    XLYIII. 
THE  CAIN  MARK. 

IF  the  gentle  reader  will  go  back  to  the  twentieth  chapter  of 
this  history,  the  very  abrupt  manner  in  which  Sir  John  Lacy 
was  dismissed  from  the  narrative  will  be  apparent.  The  time  has 
now  arrived  when  it  will  be  in  order  to  take  up  the  thread  there 
dropped,  and  the  author  recurs  to  that  time  with  the  greater  re 
luctance,  because  it  adds  another  to  the  already  multiplied  indica 
tions  that  the  story  is  drawing  to  a  close. 

After  Barston  had  parted  from  him,  the  baronet  rode  slowly 
along,  thinking  of  the  exciting  colloquy  just  over,  and  the  change 
wrought  in  his  purposes  and  sentiments. 

"I  must  tell  Eet  all  about  it,"  he  thought.  "Poor  girl!  she 
has  been  annoyed,  no  doubt,  though  she  has  said  nothing.  I 
must  also  manage  to  get  her  diamonds  back ;"  and  he  took  the  box 
from  his  pocket  and  looked  at  the  gems,  flashing  in  the  moonlight. 
The  satellite  was  just  appearing,  full,  above  the  horizon.  "I 
wonder  how  much  the  trinkets  are  worth  ?  Here  is  the  Dark 
Wood.  It  will  save  a  mile  to  cross  here.  The  hedge  is  low.  So  ! 
Saladin  !  Over  we  go  !" 

As  the  horse  leaped  and  alighted  at  the  edge  of  the  wood,  a 
man  started  up  from  the  ground  and  confronted  the  rider. 

"  Hillo  !"  said  Sir  John,  thrusting  the  jewel  case  into  his  bosom, 
"  who  are  you  T 

"  I  was  about  to  put  the  same  question  to  you,"  said  the 
stranger,  coming  a  little  more  into  the  moonlight,  "  but  I  believe 
your  name  is  Lacy  ?" 

"  Having  discovered  this  fact,"  replied  Sir  John,  "  you  will,  per 
haps  acknowledge  that  I  am  on  my  own  land  and  have  the  right 
to  ask  your  business." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  the  other,  laughing  disagree 
ably,  "  your  title  to  the  land  may  be  questioned,  perhaps.  You 
are  married,  I  hear  ?" 

"What  the  devil  do  you  mean  by  this  insolence1?"  said  Sir 
John.  "  Get  out  of  my  path  and  get  off  my  property.  You  are  a 
tresspasser." 

"  Softly,"  replied  the  stranger,  "  you  are  making  too  many  as 
sertions  in  one.  You  cannot  pass  until  I  have  some  speech  with 


THE  CAIN  MARK.  247 

you.  I  thought  of  calling  upon  you  at  the  Ked  Hall,  but  this  is 
better." 

"  If  you  are  drunk  I  can  overlook  this  offence.  If  you  are  sober, 
I  caution  you  to  take  yourself  out  of  reach.  I  am  a  magistrate, 
and  am  bound  to  have  you  up  for  trespassing  on  a  gentleman's 
grounds,  unless,"  he  added,  shaking  his  rein  and  touching  his 
horse  with  the  spur,  "  unless  you  choose  to  apologize  and  de 
camp." 

"  How  easily  I  can  change  all  that  lordly  air,"  said  the  tres 
passer,  laughing  again,  "  with  a  word  or  two.  You  cannot  pass, 
I  tell  you,  until  I  have  had  my  say !" 

Sir  John  snatched  his  sabre  from  the  scabbard  and  shook  it 
wrathfully  over  his  head. 

"  If  you  do  not  clear  the  path  on  the  instant,"  he  said,  sternly, 
"  I  swear  I  will  cut  you  down,  you  scoundrel !" 

"  Pooh !"  said  Butler,  composedly,  "  the  greater  part  of  my  life 
has  been  spent  among  real  swords,  where  they  were  thicker  than 
the  twigs  above  your  head !  Put  up  your  holiday  weapon,  and 
keep  it  to  frighten  boys  withal.  You  dare  not  use  it  upon  me !" 

Something  in  the  man's  manner  impressed  Sir  John,  and  he 
lowered  his  weapon. 

"  Say  what  you  have  to  say,  then,"  he  answered,  "  and  oblige 
me  by  being  brief  as  possible.  I  yield  to  your  madness,  for  you 
must  be  mad,  as  you  are  clearly  not  drunk.  What  is  your  busi 
ness  F 

"I  have  not  decided  fully,"  said  Butler.  " Perhaps  I  may  let 
you  off  easily,  as  you  have  lowered  your  tone.  I  want  to  know 
more  about  your  wife  before  I  can  tell  you  what  I  require." 

"  Hark  you,  Mr.  Mountebank,"  said  Sir  John,  struggling  with 
his  rising  temper,  "  speak  respectfully  of  Lady  Lacy,  or " 

"Pshaw!"  said  Butler,  rudely,  again  laying  his  hand  on  the 
bridle,  "  you  had  better  be  sure  that  she  is  Lady  Lacy  before  you 
lose  your  temper.  What  are  you  doing  ?" 

"  Out  of  my  path  on  your  peril !"  said  the  baronet,  rising  in  his 
stirrups  as  his  sabre  circled  round  his  head.  "  By  Heaven,  your 
life  hangs  upon  a  thread  !  I  will  cleave  your  head  in  three  sec 
onds  if  you  arc  within  reach  of  my  sword.  One,  two,  three  !"  and 
the  bright  blade,  flashing  in  the  moonlight,  descended  like  a 
bolt  from  the  heavens. 

"Madman  !*'  said  Butler,  throwing  up  a  thick  stick  he  had 
plucked  from  the  hedge,  "would  you  kill  your  brother?" 


248  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

The  keen  blade  cut  through  the  tough  cudgel,  and  though  the 
force  of  the  blow  was  broken  by  the  parry,  it  bit  deeply  into  the 
upturned  forehead  of  the  trespasser,  blinding  him  with  the  quick 
flowing  blood.  Pressing  heavily  upon  the  bridle,  the  horse  reared, 
struck  out  with  his  forelegs,  and  fell  over  upon  his  rider.  Elbert 
Lacy  passed  his  hand  over  his  eyes  as  the  horse,  struggling  to  his 
feet,  galloped  away  towards  the  Hall,  snorting  with  fright. 

He  drew  the  motionless  body  of  his  brother  into  the  moonlight 
and  looked  anxiously  upon  his  pale  face.  The  frown  was  rapidly 
fading  from  his  countenance,  giving  place  to  an  appalling  calm 
which  Elbert  knew  from  many  experiences  betokened  death! 
He  put  his  hand — first  cleansing  it  from  blood  stains,  on  the 
dewy  grass — upon  his  brother's  heart.  It  had  ceased  to  beat! 
As  he  withdrew  it  from  his  vest  a  small  jewel  case  fell  upon  the 
ground.  He  raised  it,  read  the  inscription  "  Lacy,"  and  placed 
it  in  his  own  pocket.  The  sabre  had  fallen  from  the  dead  man's 
hand.  Elbert  raised  it,  wiped  the  stain  upon  his  coat  sleeve,  and 
returned  it  to  its  sheath. 

All  this  time  the  sound  of  the  hoofstrokes  of  the  flying  horse 
came  floating  back  upon  the  breeze. 

"  Dead !"  said  Elbert,  "  and  by  my  hand !  And  he  has  left  the 
Cain  'brand  on  my  forehead  to  abide  while  my  life  lasts !  Of  all 
the  horrors  that  have  darkened  that  life  this  is  the  culmination. 
Guiltless  in  the  sight  of  heaven,  I  swear !"  and  he  lifted  his  hand 
solemnly  to  the  solemn  sky,  "  yet  no  stream  can  be  found  to  wash 
away  this  stain !  Oh,  Jack,  how  joyfully  would  I  change  places 
with  you,  poor  boy  P 

He  sat  down  upon  the  ground,  took  out  the  jewel  case  and 
opened  it.  The  diamonds  seemed  to  gather  up  all  the  rays  of  the 
moonlight  and  flash  them  back  into  the  eyes  of  Elbert  Lacy, 
mocking  him  with  their  weird  and  devilish  glitter. 

"  Ay,  ay  P  he  said,  "  I  have  heard  of  you  many  a  time,  and  I 
would  recognize  you  anywhere  on  the  earth  !  No  Lacy  can  die 
by  Lacy's  hand  unless  you  are  near  !" 

He  thrust  the  box  back  into  his  pocket  and  rose  from  the 
ground,  picking  up  the  two  pieces  of  the  cudgel  and  looking 
curiously  at  the  cut  in  the  tough  wood.  It  was  a  clean  trans 
verse  cut,  looking  as  if  it  had  been  made  by  the  blow  of  an  axe. 

"  The  boy  was  a  good  sworder.  If  I  had  not  chanced  to  pull 
this  from  the  hedge  it  would  have  been  Elbert  Lacy  lying  there 
so  still  and  calm.  As  it  was,  he  has  cut  me  to  the  bone  I  He 


THE  GAIN  HARK.  249 

died  aflame  with  rage,  and  I  have  killed  him,  without  design 
and  without  anger.  It  will  take  a  portion  of  my  life-long  remorse 
away  to  remember  that !  It  was  the  cursed  curb  that  caused  it 
all !  The  brute  reared  up  and  tore  the  rein  from  my  hand  at  the 
very  instant  that  Jack  cut  at  me  !" 

He  knelt  down  by  the  body  and  looked  earnestly  at  the  up 
turned  face,  calm  and  beautiful.  There  was  a  strange  composure 
in  all  that  this  outcast  did,  and  his  passions  and  feelings,  tumul 
tuous  as  they  were,  undoubtedly,  were  still  held  in  perfect  check. 
Under  happier  tutelage  his  marred  life  would  perhaps  have  been 
brilliant  and  beneficent,  for  he  had  the  attributes  of  noble  man 
hood,  albeit  all  warped  from  their  normal  tendencies. 

u  How  handsome  he  is  !"  he  said,  sadly,  and  he  leaned  over  him 
and  kissed  his  cold  forehead.  "  I  would  have  died  for  you, 
brother,"  he  continued  as  he  rose,  "  but  it  was  not  to  be.  The 
curse  that  clings  to  the  Lacy  line  has  found  you,  Jack.  My  turn 
next,  and  I  care  not  how  soon  it  comes  !" 

With  the  fragments  of  his  cudgel  in  his  hand  he  crossed  the 
hedge,  swinging  clear  of  it  by  an  overhanging  boiigh,  and  enter 
ing  the  wood  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  road  which  divided  the 
Lacy  lands  from  the  estate  of  Lord  Morton,  he  suddenly  found 
the  death  he  courted  waiting  for  him. 

In  an  open  glade,  so  near  that  he  could  hear  the  trampling  of 
their  feet,  three  men  were  pressing  hardly  upon  a  fourth.  He 
could  see  the  flash  of  a  knife  in  the  hands  of  one  of  the  assailants, 
and  without  a  moment's  pause  he  dashed  into  the  fray. 

"  Three  upon  one !"  he  shouted,  as  he  felled  the  nearest  with 
his  short  cudgel.  "  Shame  upon  you,  cowards !" 

The  others  turned  upon  him  with  curses,  leaving  their  intended 
victim,  who  sunk  bleeding  to  the  ground.  He  had  been  cut  in 
the  arm  by  the,  knife,  which  the  younger  still  held  in  his  hand,  as 
he  rushed  upon  Elbert  Lacy.  The  latter,  avoiding  his  assault  by 
springing  aside,  snatching  a  gun  from  the  ground,  discharged  it  at 
the  baffled  robber  before  he  could  stop  in  his  career.  He  fell 
with  a  groan,  and  Lacy  grappled  immediately  with  the  other, 
receiving  an  ugly  blow  upon  the  head,  but  holding  his  grip 
upon  the  throat  of  his  brawny  assailant  with  iron  muscles.  The 
wounded  gamekeeper  crawled  to  his  assistance,  and  between 
them  the  poaclu-r  was  borne  to  the  earth  and  his  arms  pinioned. 
The  others  were  already  hors  dc  combat. 

The  struggle  occurred  near  the  road-side,  and  the  sound  of  the 


250  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

gun  shot  attracted  a  passing  laborer,  who  came  rapidly  to  the 
spot,  directed  by  the  shouts  of  the  gamekeeper.  And  as  Elbert 
Lacy  saw  the  newcomer  approach,  his  grasp  upon  the  prostrate 
poacher  relaxed,  and  he  rolled  over  in  a  swoon  by  his  side. 


CHAPTEE    XLIX. 
THE  KINSMEN. 

"  ~\TTELL  met!"  said  Mr.  Butler,  as  Swiss  recoiled,  "I  was 
VV    thinking  of  you  this  moment!" 

«  Mr. — : — Barston  ?"  said  Swiss. 

"Well,  no!''  replied  the  other,  "that  was  only  a  temporary 
title,  which  I  assumed  for  a  purpose.  Conie  into  my  room,  and  I 
will  tell  you  about  it." 

He  threw  open  a  door  as  he  spoke,  and  old  Mr.  Jones  obeyed 
his  courteous  gesture  and  entered  the  room.  The  other  followed 
him,  and  closing  the  door  turned  the  key ! 

"  It  would  be  inconvenient  to  be  interrupted,"  he  said,  apolo 
getically,  "  take  a  seat,  pray.  But  if  I  may  venture  to  say  so,  you 
look  so  confoundedly  ugly  in  that  old  tow  wig  that  you  would  do 
well  to  take  it  off !  So !"  he  continued,  as  Mr.  Jones  disappeared, 
wig  and  gray  beard  and  stooping  shoulders  and  all,  while  hand 
some  Lacy  Barston  emerged  from  the  ruins;  "that  is  better! 
and  now,  Lacy  Barston,  I  may  say  to  you  that  I  knew  you  on  the 
ship  as  soon  as  you  spoke !" 

"  Indeed !"  said  Barston,  coolly. 

"  Yes !  I  recognized  the  Lacy  burr.    There  is  no  mistaking  it." 

"  True,"  said  Swiss.  "  I  think  I  knew  you,  Elbert,  or  at  least 
that  peculiarity  of  speech  helped  enlighten  me.  My  dear  cousin, 
I  offer  you  my  hand  with  true  affection." 

"  Stop  a  moment !"  said  the  other,  a  little  startled,  "  you  don't 
know  yet  what  stains  are  on  my  hand " 

"Neither  do  I  care,  Elbert.  If  your  hand  would  'incarnadine 
multitudinous  seas,'  it  is  still  the  hand  of  my  only  living  kinsman. 
Give  me  your  hand,  Elbert !" 

The  other  stood  gazing  irresolutely  at  him  a  moment,  and  then 
sat  down  near  him,  his  hands  thrust  into  his  pockets. 

"Lacy,"  he  said,  speaking  slowly  and  without  any  sign  of 
emotion,  "  I  told  you  a  large  part  of  my  miserable  story  on  the 


THE  KINSMEN.  251 

ship  yonder.  I  was  half  mad  with  drink,  but  I  deliberately  told 
you  every  word  because  I  would  not  sail  under  false  colours  with 
you.  But  there  are  some  things  that  I  did  not  tell  you,  and  you 
must  hear  them  uo\v.  Where  is  Nellie  ?" 

u  In  her  mother's  arms.  Where  is  your  wife  I  I  desire  to  be  the 
first  to  address  her  as  Lady  Lacy !" 

"  Never !"  said  his  cousin.  "She  can  never  have  the  title.  It 
is  a  hatefqj  name  to  me,  since  one  of  those  cursed  Harwoods  has 
borne  it !" 

"  For  shame,  Elbert  P  said  Barstou,  reproachfully,  "  you  come 
of  a  gentle  strain ;  do  not  contradict  your  better  instincts,  and  do 
not  insult  me  by  rude  speeches  against  the  lady  I  love !  Eet 
Harwood  will  be  my  wife  if  I  ever  have  a  wife.' 

"  Is  it  so?  Well,  I  will  say  no  more,  and  will  try  to  forget  her 
haughty  insolence.  There !  there !  I  have  done.  Kitty  is  abed, 
slowly  recovering  from  the  effects  of  the  voyage.  You  shall  see 
her  anon,  and  if  you  wish  to  call  her  by  the  title  you  name,  after 
you  hear  my  story  to  the  end,  I  shall  not  hinder  you.  Will  you 
listen  r 

"  Assuredly." 

"  You  know  all  about  me  up  to  our  parting  at  Liverpool,  when 
we  came  from  Australia,  except  that  I  had  been  fortunate  at  the 
gold  diggings  and  brought  some  money  home." 

"  I  knew  that,  too,  Elbert,"  said  Barston ;  "  the  captain  told  me 
of  the  bag  of  gold  dust  you  gave  into  his  charge." 

"  Ay,  ay  !"  replied  Elbert,  "  I  gave  him  that  before  several  wit 
nesses.  My  object  was  to  make  all  who  knew  it  suppose  that  was 
all  my  wealth.  It  was  not  the  tithe  of  it!  I  had  ten  times  the 
sum  belted  round  my  waist,  in  Bank  of  England  notes ;  and  I 
have  it  still,  or  Kitty  has,  which  is  better." 

"  It  makes  little  difference,  Elbert,"  answered  Swiss.  "  I  have 
more  than  I  can  spend,  and  my  purse  is  yours  whenever  you 
need  it." 

u  You  are  kind,  but  there  is  no  need.  Well,  after  you  saw  me 
and  Kitty  over  yonder  at  her  house,  I  wandered  away  into  the 
country  around  Lavington,  trying  to  humanize  myself  by  recall 
ing  events  of  my  boyhood.  Alas!  every  spot  I  saw  and  recog- 
ni/ed  amid  the  changes  wrought  by  the  lapse  of  a  dozen  years 
and  more,  only  brought  back  the  memory  of  the  wrongs  that 
drove  me  from  these  scenes !  1  spent  the  day  brooding  over  these 
wrongs,  and  at  nightfall  I  was  alone  in  the  Dark  Wood,  when 


252  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

Jack  came  suddenly  upon  me,  leaping  his  horse  over  the  hedge. 
Ah  !  I  see  you  anticipate  what  is  to  follow.  He  did  not  know  me, 
and  I,  moody  and  irritable,  chafed  him  with  rude  words.  Before 

I  knew  it  he  had  torn  his  sword  from  the  scabbard,  and gave 

me  this — this — accursed  Cain  brand  ! 

"  It  is  a  Cain  brand,  for  I  killed  him  !  I  had  my  hand  on  his 
bridle,  and  when  his  blow  came,  like  a  thunderbolt,  I  called  my 
name  to  him,  and  pressing  on  his  rein,  his  horse  reared  and  fell  on 
him,  crushing  out  his  bright  young  life,  and  taking  the  last  ves 
tige  of  human  emotion  out  of  mine.  I  killed  him — innocently,  I 
need  not  tell  you— but  I  killed  him — my  brother ! 

"  Will  you  take  my  hand  now,  Mr.  BarstonP 

"  Yes,"  said  Barston,  clasping  his  extended  hand  while  he 
passed  his  other  arm  around  the  other's  neck.  "  Poor  old  Elbert ! 
I  am  so  sorry  for  all  you  have  suffered!  But  your  sufferings  are 
over,  I  hope.  In  the  first  place,  your  story  does  not  happen  to  be 
true.  You  did  not  kill  Jack !" 

"  What  say  you  ?"  said  Lacy,  starting  to  his  feet.  "  You  mean 
I  am  guiltless  of  intention  but  guilty  in  fact " 

"  I  don't  mean  any  such  rubbish.  Jack  did  not  die  of  any  hurt 
inflicted  by  you,  accidentally  or  otherwise.  He  died  a  natural 
death!" 

Elbert  sat  watching  him  with  wonder  in  his  eyes. 

"  It  is  true,  Elbert.  You  know  I  would  not  lie  to  you !  Poor 
Jack's  life  hung  upon  a  thread.  He  had  organic  disease  of  the 
heart.  I  knew  it  years  before,  for  I  have  studied  the  science  of 
medicine.  Dr.  Holly  knew  it,  and  pronounced  it  the  cause  of  his 
sudden  death  j  and  finally  Dr.  Cardon,  who  is  the  ultimate  author 
ity  on  heart  diseases  in  England,  pronounced  this  case  a  perfect 
specimen  when  I  told  him  Jack's  symptoms.  Cheer  up,  Elbert, 
and  spend  the  rest  of  your  days  in  thanking  Heaven  that  this 
burden  is  lifted  from  your  heart." 

" Can  this  be  true?"  said  Lacy,  as  if  stunned.  "  Have  I  been 
withering  under  this  blighting  curse  all  these  years !  Why,  if 
your  story  is  true,  Barston,  this  beauty  spot  of  mine  may  be  ob 
literated  also !" 

"  Perhaps.  Let  me  look  at  it.  Of  all  the  sworders  I  have  ever 
known  Jack  was  the  best,  excepting  only  his  teacher.  I  marvel 
that  you  lived  to  tell  the  story  of  that  encounter." 

"  I  had  a  tough  ashen  staff  in  my  hand,  with  which  I  parried 
the  blow.  He  cut  through  it  as  if  it  had  been  a  pipe  stem.  I  had 


THE  KINSMEN.  253 

been  sped,  no  doubt,  if  his  maddened  horse  had  not  reared  at  the 
same  moment.  Can  the  scar  be  cured  F 

"  It  can  be  mado  much  lighter,  at  least.  Will  you  submit  to 
some  pain  and  annoyance  for  a  few  weeks  F 

"  To  get  this  accursed  mark  off  my  face  I  would  submit  to  a 
year's  torture  upon  the  rack.  When  will  you  begin  F 

'•  Nay,  you  shall  have  no  bungler,"  said  his  cousin.  "  I  will  get 
Cardon.  Let  us  go  to  London  and  consult  him.  I  will  go  with 
you." 

"  When  F 

"  To-night,  if  you  will." 

"  Agreed.  My  dear  Barston,  there  is  no  man  like  you  on  the 
earth !  If  I  could  make  you  know  how  this  hideous  scar  bites 
into  my  brain  you  would  not  wonder  at  my  eagerness.  And  now 
hear  a  word  or  two  more.  I  never  intended  to  take  little  Nellie 
away.  You  discovered  that  I  married  Kitty  at  Stirling.  I  per 
suaded  her  to  call  herself  Miss  Tainworth  because  your  parson 
friend  was  spooney  upon  her,  and  I  was  sure  he  would  hear  of  the 
marriage.  It  was  pure  spite  against  him  that  prompted  me. 
When  I  met  Kitty  at  Clifton  it  Avas  accidental.  She  had  Nellie 
with  her,  and  we  were  compelled  to  take  her.  I  confess  that  I 
enjoyed  the  thought  that  her  mother  would  be  distracted,  but  I 
sent  her  a  note  by  the  tug  to  relieve  her  anxiety.  When  we 
reached  America  I  could  not  bear  to  take  the  child  far  out  into 
the  West ;  and  indeed  my  wife  would  not  consent.  She  is  Jack's 
child,  and  I  was  a  prey  to  remorse  on  his  account,  and  I  drank 
myself  drunk  nearly  every  day  to  escape  from  memory.  Kitty 
told  me  the  day  after  you  took  the  child  that  you  had  done  it,  and 
she  pleaded  so  earnestly  to  come  back  to  England  that  I  had  to 
yield.  One  day  at  sea,  and  your  disguise  and  Nellie's  were  wasted 
on  me.  The  odour  of  salt  water  brought  back  all  my  faculties. 
It  was  pleasant  to  watch  you  and  Hawder  and  let  you  think  you 
were  unknown ;  but  I  have  had  no  unkind  thought  in  my  heart  at 
any  time  against  you,  and  more  than  once  I  have  been  on  the 
very  verge  of  a  full  confession  to  you  when  your  woman's  voice 
was  singing  in  my  ears !  Ah,  Barston !  no  woman  can  withstand 
you.  If  she  listens  she  is  vanquished  1" 

Swiss  blushed  and  laughed. 

"Now  I  will  go  tell  Kitty.  You  will  bo  ready  at  train  time? 
And  if  your  London  doctor  undertakes  this  cure  you  will  stay  by 
mo  until  it  is  done  F 


254  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  I  will.  We  have  an  hour  or  more.  I  will  meet  you  at  tlie 
station.  Greet  Lady  Lacy  in  my  name  and  tell  her  that  her  hus 
band's  cousin  is  her  cousin  also,  and  claims  kindred." 

"  Stop,  Barston,"  said  the  other,  as  he  unlocked  the  door,  "  until 
this  blot  is  removed,  no  Lady  Lacys,  if  you  please ;  no  Sir  El- 
berts,  but — my  old  name — inherited  from  the  pirate  captain,  the 
greatest  thief  and  scoundrel  that  ever  cursed  the  earth  with  his 
presence — Mr.  Butler !" 


CH  APTEE    L. 

LOVE  TOKENS. 

WITH  patient  self-denial  Lacy  Barston  staid  by  his  cousin's 
side  while  Dr.  Cardon  wrought  with  the  stubborn  scar.  He 
talked,  read  the  papers,  explained  multitudes  of  conventionalisms 
of  which  Sir  Elbert  was  totally  ignorant,  but  which  must  be 
known  by  all  who  move  in  refined  society.  He  drove  out  with 
him  through  the  brilliant  streets  at  night,  when  the  bandaged 
head  of  his  cousin  could  not  be  seen,  in  their  Hansom.  And 
•when  the  baronet  retired  for  the  night  Swiss  would  steal  an  hour 
or  so  from  his  own  slumbers  to  write  to  Parson  Johnny. 

He  could  only  tell  him  that  he  was  kept  there  in  attendance 
upon  a  friend,  undergoing  a  prolonged  surgical  operation,  and 
that  he  would  fly  to  Lavington  as  soon  as  this  duty  was  accom 
plished.  Elbert  steadfastly  insisted  upon  maintaining  his  incog 
nito,  until  he  could  face  the  world  without  a  blemish  upon  his 
countenance. 

One  day  Barston  was  walking  down  Regent  street,  and  he 
suddenly  ran  against  the  rector.  With  a  shout  of  delight  he 
clutched  his  arm,  and  hurrying  him  into  the  Hay  market,  entered 
the  Western  Club.  Seated  in  the  smoking  room  Swiss  bade  him 
"  talk  and  tell  him  everything  he  knew." 

"  The  best  news  I  have,  dear  old  Swiss,  is  that  Clare  and  Eet 
have  just  gone  to  Paris " 

"  Well,  that  is  a  promising  beginning !"  ejaculated  Swiss,  with 
an  elongated  countenance.  "  How  long  will  they  stay  ?' 

"  I  cannot  tell,"  replied  Mr.  Harwood,  with  a  little  blush  ;  they 
are  on  a  shopping  expedition.  Miss  Tarn  worth  is  to  be  married  a 
mouth  hence,  and  said  she  must  go  to  Paris  to  get  some  'things.' 
I  don't  know  what  they  are." 


LOVE  TOKENS.  255 

"Where  is  Nellie  F 

"  At  Hanvood  House." 

"  Why  did  you  not  accompany  the  ladies  ?" 

"  They  would  not  allow  me.  I  am  permitted  to  go  after  them 
when  notified.  My  dear  Swiss,  in  one  month  from  this  day  I 
shall  be  invested  with  authority  to  regulate  the  movements  of  one 
of  them,  at  least.  In  the  meantime  submission  to  all  sorts  of 
absurd  whims  is  my  daily  lesson." 

"  Learn  it  well,  Parson.  You  will  find  the  knowledge  useful 
hereafter.  Please  give  me  the  ladies'  address." 

"  Hotel  de  Lisle  et  Albion,"  answered  the  rector.  "  Lord  and 
Lady  Morton  are  there.  Come  with  me  to  Harwood  House, 
Swiss.?' 

"  I  cannot,  Johnny.  I  am  sorry,  but  I  must  attend  upon  my 
friend  here  for  a  week  or  two  more.  He  is  undergoing  a  painful 
and  tedious  operation,  and  I  promised  to  stay  by  him." 

"  Who  is  it,  Swiss  f 

"  Ah !  that  is  a  secret.  I  will  tell  you  later.  This  is  the 
fifteenth.  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  will  be  married  on 
the  fifteenth  of  August?" 

"  That  is  the  happy  day,  Swiss.    Oh  !  how  I  wish  you  also " 

"  Thank  you,  Johnny.  I  think  I  shall !  Don't  ever  tell  that  I 
said  so,  I  pray  you.  But  I  shall  set  my  wits  to  work  to  bring  it  to 
pass !  It  would  be  jolly  to  be  married  on  the  same  day  with  you ! 
Where  do  you  go  for  the  honeymoon  ?" 

"  Through  Scotland,  the  Lochs,  the  Trossachs,  everywhere, 
any  where.  You  know  I  missed  that  trip  last  summer." 

"  So  did  I.  The  route  is  faultless.  Would  you  object  to  have 
Eet  and  me  in  the  party  ?" 

"  Object !  Oh,  Swiss  !  Poor  Swiss !  Have  you  spoken  to  Ket 
on  the  subject  F 

"  I  have  not  spoken  to  her  for  three  years !  When  I  speak  to 
her  again  I  will  speak  to  purpose !  My  dear  Johnny,  my  whole 
soul  is  full  of  her !  Without  one  word  of  encouragement  I  am  still 
so  happy,  whenever  I  think  of  her,  and  that  is  always,  night  and 
day,  asleep  and  awake,  that  I  know  I  shall  win  her!  If  she  did 
not  love  me  in  requital  for  all  the  volume  of  love  I  feel  for  her — 
why,  Parson,  it  would  be  like  a  vacuum  in  nature.  I  am  sure  of 
her !  The  horror,  the  dismay,  the  madness  of  failure — Pooh  !  It 
is  one  of  those  things  that  are  simply  inconceivable !" 

"  Poor  Swiss !" 


256  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Get  out,  yon  sleek  old  rascal !"  said  Barston,  "  do  you  suppose 
that  you  are  the  only  man  that  knows  how  to  court  F 

"  Ah,  Swiss  !  if  it  were  anybody  but  Eet !  I  have  tried  to  get 
her  to  talk  of  you  a  dozen  times  since  you  brought  Nellie  back. 
She  listens  to  all  I  say,  but  she  never  mentions  your  name!" 

"  Don't  she  f '  said  Swiss,  with  a  grin. 

"  No,"  answered  the  rector,  a  little  nettled — "  and  Clare  tells  me 
that  she  has  attempted  once  or  twice  to  joke  her  about  you,  and 
that  she  receives  all  these  attempts  with  imperturbable  gravity." 

"  Does  she  ?'"  said  Swiss,  the  grin  broadening. 

"  Upon  my  word,  Swiss,  your  conceit  is  intolerable !"  said  the 
rector,  in  a  rage.  "  It  is  bad  enough  for  me  to  see  how  hopeless 
your  case  is,  without  having  to  endure  that  complacent  smirk 
too !" 

"  Why,  you  poor  old  dunderhead !"  said  Barston,  "  all  the  symp 
toms  you  have  described  are  highly  favourable !  I  am  more  than 
ever  convinced  that  she  has  a  liking  for  me." 

"Please  enlighten  me,  then,"  said  the  bewildered  Parson,  "  for 
I  vow  I  am  entirely  in  the  dark  as  to  your  method  of  extracting 
comfort  from  the  signs  I  have  given  you." 

"  Promise  to  keep  the  secret,  then." 

"  I  promise." 

"Eh  Men!"  said  Mr.  Barston,  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  "to  be 
gin " 

"  Stop,  Swiss  !"  said  the  rector,  suddenly.  "  I  have  one  more 
shot  before  you  begin.  Do  you  remember  sending  a  note  to  Eet 
when  you  sailed  from  Bristol?  Well,  she  handed  it  to  me.  I 
read  it.  You  requested,  poor  boy,  that  she  would  show  herself  to 
you  from  the  Downs !  Ah  !  you  remember,  I  see.  I  caught  up 
my  hat,  and  bade  her  come  to  the  Downs  before  your  ship  passed, 
and  she " 

"  Go  on,  Parson  !  what  the  mischief  are  you  stopping  for  ?" 

"I  don't  like  to  tell  you,  Swiss!  She  took  back  your  note, 
folded  it  coolly,  and  said,  i  Too  late,  Johnny !  the  ship  must  have 
sidled  at  daylight,'  and  she  sailed  out  of  the  room  with  the  most 

perfect  indifference What  ails  you?  You  will  have  a  fit  if 

you  cough  and  splutter  in  that  fashion  !  Laugh  out,  you  goose, 
if  you  see  anything  amusing  and  encouraging  in  my  story !" 

"Excuse  me,  Parson!"  said  Barstou,  recovering  his  gravity.  "I 
will  explain  my  hilarity  anon.  To  begin  :  Women  were  intended  by 
Nature  to  govern  the  world.  All  of  these  modern '  womens'  rights ' 


LOVE  TOKENS.  257 

leagues  are  miserable  caricatures  of  a  grand  truth.  Also,  all  of  this 
awful  rubbish  about l  natural  selection '  has  a  golden  thread  of  truth 
mingled  with  enormous  masses  of  lies  and  bosh  !  and  that  truth  is 
the  essential  domination  of  woman.  Do  not  misunderstand  me. 
Her  husband  is  her  lord,  and  the  true  woman  delights  to  acknow 
ledge  his  authority.  But  she  does  verily  reign  in  and  through 
him  with  despotic  sway.  You  spoke  of  your  <  authority '  a  little 
while  ago.  Why,  you  simple-minded  Parson,  do  you  not  know 
that  one  tear  would  melt  your  authority  at  once  ?  And  what  do 
you  think  would  be  the  power  of  a  pint  of  tears  all  poured  out  at 
once?  They  keep  them,  man,  subject  to  call;  an  army  of  rain 
drops ;  swift,  prompt,  irresistible.  No  man  who  is  not  a  brute  can 
withstand  a  true  woman's  tears !" 

"  That  sounds  quite  rational !"  quoth  the  Parson. 

"  Rational !  Of  course !  Now,  secondly,  they  have  another 
troop  of  invincible  forces — warriors,  called  smiles.  Don't  you 
know,  Johnny,  that  you  would  jump  in  the  river  to  gain  a  smile 
when  it  is  withheld  ?" 

"  Yes,  perhaps !" 

"  Then,  Parson,"  continued  the  orator,  "  women  are  secretive  in 
all  matters  pertaining  to  their  affections.  I  cannot  say  they  de 
ceive  you,  but  they  allow  you  to  deceive  yourself,  and  if  there  is 
any  one  thing  which  a  spooney  man  is  sure  to  do,  it  is  to  make  a 
goose  of  himself  whenever  occasion  offers.  Eet  never  said  she 
disliked  me,  did  she  f 

"  No ;  I  tell  you  she  says  nothing  whatever  about  you !" 

"  And,  therefore,  you  stretch  your  long  neck  up  and  think  you 
have  read  her  heart !  l  If  she  did  not  dislike  Lacy  Barston  she 
would  be  certain  to  speak  of  him.'  Now,  try  the  other  proposition  1 
If  she  did  not  like  Lacy  Barston  she  would  be  certain  to  speak  of 
him  !" 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Swiss,"  said  the  rector,  "have  it  your  own 
way.  You  forget  that  I  have  known  a  long  time  that  you  loved 
Ket,  and  that  I  have  watched  very  anxiously  for  some  symptom 
that  was  favourable.  In  vain,  Swiss,  in  vain  !" 

"  Keep  on  watching,  Parson,"  said  Barstou,  "  but  keep  your 
mouth  shut." 

"  No  use  to  watch,  Swiss !  That  morning  at  Clifton  satisfied 
me !  Why,  if  you  had  written  that  note  to  me  I  should  have 
crawled  to  the  river  on  my  knees  if  I  could  have  got  there  no 
otherwise.  Just  think  of  it  1  here  you  were  about  to  start  on  a 


258  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

long  journey,  three  or  four  thousand  miles,  to  look  for  her  own 
child,  and  all  you  asked  was  just  to  look  at  her  as  your  vessel 
passed  the  place !  Why,  if  she  had  hated  the  sight  of  you  she 
might  have  done  it  out  of  mere  gratitude !  It  was  all  humbug 
about  the  ship  starting  too  soon.  I  remember  now  that  the  cab 
was  there !  Ah,  Swiss,  it  was  heartless !  heartless !" 

Barston  rolled  about  in  his  cushioned  chair  in  strong  convul 
sions.  Mr.  Harwood  took  his  hat  and  stalked  with  dignity  to  the 
door. 

"  I  must  bid  you  good  morning,  Mr.  Barston,"  he  said,  "  and  I 
beg  you  will  not  restrain  your  merriment  on  my  account.  I  have 
read  of  laughing  hyenas  somewhere,  and,"  he  concluded  sardoni 
cally,  "  I  have  also  heard  of  people  who  laughed  on  the  wrong 
side  of  their  mouths!" 


OHAPTEE     LI. 

SIR  ELBERT  LACY. 

IT  was  the  first  day  of  August,  and  all  Nature  was  baking.  The 
various  personages,  in  whose  fate  the  charming  reader  is  spe 
cially  interested,  were  all  in  fair  Devon.  Morton  Priory  was 
inhabited.  Clare,  with  numberless  trunks,  had  taken  up  her  abode 
there ;  Lord  and  Lady  Morton  claimed  her,  and  Eet  relinquished 
her  at  their  urgent  solicitation.  Distracting  parcels  came  from 
Paris  day  by  day,  and  Miss  Tarn  worth  spent  many  hours  in  flutter 
ing  from  one  trunk  to  another,  gloating  over  the  flimsy  wealth 
wrought  by  the  nimble  fingers  of  French  modistes. 

Sir  Elbert  Lacy  and  Mr.  Barston  had  returned  from  London  on 
the  previous  day.  The  scar  upon  the  brow  of  the  baronet  was 
nearly  obliterated ;  a  faint  line  remained,  visible  only  when  some 
strong  excitement  sent  the  Lacy  blood  to  his  forehead. 

Lady  Lacy  was  at  the  Red  Hall.  She  was  in  the  Lollard's  room, 
near  the  library,  when  a  carriage  came  through  the  arch,  and 
grated  on  the  gravel.  While  she  wondered  who  her  early  visitors 
might  be,  a  servant  brought  the  cards : 

"  Sir  Elbert  Lacy" 
"  Lady  Lacy." 

With  increased  astonishment  Ket  directed  the  servant  to  show 
the  new  comers  into  the  library,  and  recognized  Mr.  Butler  and 


SIR  ELBEET  LACY.  259 

Kitty,  both  in  faultless  apparel,  as  they  entered  the  apartment. 
Eet  arose  and  stood  by  the  library  table,  while  the  visitors 
quietly  took  the  seats  the  servant  placed. 

"  I  owe  you  an  apology,  inadame,"  began  Sir  Elbert 

"  Pardon  me !"  said  Eet — "  William,  ask  Mrs.  Froome  to  come  to 
the  library."  She  still  stood,  gazing  intently  at  the  composed 
faces  before  her,  until  the  rustling  of  Mrs.  Frooine's  dress  an 
nounced  her  presence. 

"  Proceed,  sir,"  said  Eet. 

"  Ah,  Mrs.  Froome P  said  the  baronet ;  "  I  might  safely  rely 
upon  you  to  recognize  me.  We  have  met  once  or  twice  within  the 
past  few  years  5  but  you  must  now  go  back  a  score  of  years  to 
recall  the  features  of  Elbert  Lacy  P 

The  old  woman  went  up  to  him,  peered  anxiously  in  his  face, 
then  took  his  hand  and  kissed  it. 

"  It  is  Sir  Elbert  Lacy,  my  lady  P  she  said,  turning  to  Eet.  "  It 
is  Master  John's  elder  brother  I"  Eet  looked  at  her  with  silent 
incredulity.  "  Kay,  my  lady,"  continued  Mrs.  Froome,  "  if  you 
have  any  doubt,  look  here  P  She  went  to  the  opposite  wall  and 
tore  aside  the  crimson  curtain  from  the  portrait  of  the  Eed  Lacy. 
Sir  Elbert  laughed,  while  a  disagreeable  sneer  passed  over  his  face, 
and  the  red  line  on  his  forehead  came  into  view.  The  resemblance 
betwixt  him  and  the  picture  was  certainly  very  striking,  and 
Eet  began  to  have  some  glimmering  of  the  truth. 

"  Mrs.  Froome,"  said  Sir  Elbert,  "I  remember  a  certain  bin  in 
the  wine  cellar  where  my  father  had  some  South  Side  Madeira. 
Do  you  think  you  could  find  a  bottle  ?" 

Mrs.  Froome  rattled  her  keys,  and  looked  doubtfully  at  Eet, 
who  was  passing  through  certain  mental  exercises  with  lightning 
rapidity. 

"  My  lady  P  said  she. 

"  Eeally,  Mrs.  Froome,"  said  Sir  Elbert,  rudely,  "  there  is  no 
necessity  for  this  appeal.  And  the  title  is  inaccurate  also,  unless 
inadame  may  inherit  it  from  the  gentle  Harwoods !  There  is  no 
Lady  Lacy  here  excepting  this  lady  by  my  side." 

"  Why  have  you  not  asserted  your  claim  earlier  P  said  Eet,  the 
haughty  Harwood  blood  mantling  on  cheek  and  forehead. 

"  Certain  obstacles  prevented,  inadame,"  returned  the  other ; 
"  besides,  I  thought  I  would  wait  for  my  birthday.  I  believe  I  was 
born  on  the  first  of  August,  Mrs.  Froome  V9 

"  Yes,  Sir  Elbert ;  at  sunset." 


280  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Well,  the  Ides  have  come,  if  not  gone.  May  I  trouble  you  to 
get  the  wine,  I  am  athirst  !" 

Eet  signed  to  Mrs.  Froome,  who  rustled  out  of  the  room. 

"  Be  seated,  madame,  I  beg,"  said  the  baronet.  '•  The  owner 
ship  of  the  old  Madeira  will  hardly  be  questioned,  I  presume.  I 
shall  have  the  pleasure  of  drinking  your  health  presently.  My 
dear,  remove  your  bonnet,  and  bid  Mrs.  Lacy  welcome !" 

Eet  glanced  from  the  window  at  the  western  sky.  A  dark  cloud 
was  overspreading  the  heavens.  She  quietly  put  on  a  dainty  little 
chip  hat  that  was  lying  on  the  table,  and  threw  a  waterproof 
cloak  over  her  shoulders.  Mrs.  Froome  re-entered  the  library, 
followed  by  William,  with  a  tray  containing  wine  glasses  and 
biscuits.  Mrs.  Froome  placed  a  cobwebbed  bottle  on  the  table, 
and  William  drew  the  cork  with  exemplary  caution.  The  odour 
of  the  wine  filled  the  apartment.  Eet  was  moving  to  the  door, 
when  Kitty  started  up  and  caught  her  cloak. 

"  Oh,  my  lady !"  she  began 

"  Perdition!"  said  her  husband.  "I  cautioned  you  against  this 
folly,  Kitty,  before  we  came.  Please  remember  that  you  outrank 
this  lady,  who  comes  of  a  mushroom  stock  in  comparison  with  the 
Lacy  strain.  She  is  the  widow  of  a  cadet  of  the  Lacy  blood,  and 
that  is  all." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  sir,"  said  Eet,  coldly.  "  The  Harwoods 
were  nobles  of  England  some  centuries  before  the  Lacys  were  ever 
heard  of.  Allow  me  to  pass,  Kitty,  I  am  going  out." 

"  My  carriage  is  at  your  service,  madame,"  said  Sir  Elbert,  "  but 
as  a  storm  is  approaching,  I  think  you  will  be  wiser  to  remain.  I 
hope  you  do  not  take  offence  at  my  remark;  it  was  rather  intended 
for  Lady  Lacy's  ears  than  for  yours.  Moreover,  I  remember  that 
you  rushed  out,  a  few  years  ago,  with  haughtier  greeting  to  Lord 
Morton's  discharged  gamekeeper.  I  think  it  was  just  below  this 
window !" 

"  I  leave  you  here,"  said  Eet,  with  no  mark  of  emotion  upon  her 
features,  except  a  slight  expansion  of  her  nostrils,  "  not  knowing 
whether  you  have  rights  here  or  no.  If  you  have  not  you  are  not 
welcome.  If  you  have  I  should  stifle  in  the  atmosphere  of  your 

house  if  I  remained.  I  decline  your  carriage,  with  thanks " 

The  door  opened  as  she  spoke  and  admitted  Swiss — u  Oh,  Lacy 
Barston  !"  she  said,  while  strangely  mingled  tears  of  rage  and  joy 
rained  from  her  eyes — "  take  me  away !  take  me  away  !" 

Barston  caught  her  hands,  drew  them  passionately  to  his  breast, 


SIR  ELBERT  LACY.  261 

with  an  inarticulate  cry,  and  then  taking  her  hand  upon  his  arm, 
faced  Sir  Elbert  with  stern  displeasure. 

"  You  have  not  done  well,  Elbert  Lacy !"  he  said,  while  the  other 
coolly  sipped  the  wine. 

"  Take  a  seat,  Barston !"  returned  the  baronet ;  "  you  are  most 
welcome  to  the  Ked  Hall.  The  last  time  you  were  here  you  left 
somewhat  suddenly,  I  remember.  Ha !  ha !  You  did  not  know 
that  I  witnessed  your  abrupt  flight,  and  your  doleful  countenance ! 
Forgive  me,  kinsman,  I  did  not  know  you  so  well  then,  and  I  was 
playing  a  game  against  heavy  odds.  There  were  madame,  yonder. 
Lord  Morton,  the  dainty  little  Parson  Harwood  and  yourself,  all 
sworn  to  thwart  me.  Yet  I  befooled  you  all !  Ha !  ha !  allow  me 
to  offer  you  a  glass  of  wine !  It  is  the  old  Seventeen  Madeira." 

"  You  knew  of  this,  and  did  not  warn  me  F  said  Bet,  reproach 
fully. 

"  I  only  arrived  last  night,  Ret,  and  I  have  been  seeking  you  all 
day.  Johnny  told  me  you  were  at  the  Priory.  I  have  been  there. 
Nellie  is  there  and  I  had  to  take  her  for  a  little  gallop.  And  then 
I  came  directly  here,  across  fields,  in  a  straight  line.  And  when  1 
left  Elbert,  last  night,  it  was  agreed  that  we  should  come  here 
together  this  morning.  And  my  errand  now  was  to  notify  you. 
Do  not  look  so  reproachfully  at  me  \n 

"  Sit  down,  Barston,"  said  Sir  Elbert,  "  you  must  positively 
taste  this  wine.  Kitty,  take  a  glass.  What !  no  ?  Mrs.  Froome, 
pray  take  my  lady  somewhere  to  lie  down.  Do  not  disturb  Mrs. 
Lacy,  I  beg !" 

"  Come  .away  !"  said  Eet,  stamping  her  foot  impatiently,  and 
drawing  Barston  to  the  door — "  come  away !" 

"  Stop,  Barston,"  continued  his  cousin,  with  courtly  ease,  "stop, 
I  desire  to  recall  that  ride  of  yours.  How  it  rained !  Surely  you 
do  not  intend  to  encounter  a  similar  storm.  It  will  be  here  in  five 
minutes.  Sit  down,  man,  and  persuade  that  irritable  lady  to  con 
trol  her  Harwood  impatience,  at  least  until  the  storm  passes." 

"Come  away,  I  tell  you!"  exclaimed  llet,  vehemently.  "Will 
you  subject  me  to  this  insolent  treatment  another  minute  t 
Away !" 

Swiss  looked  out  at  the  scowling  face  of  the  heavens  with 
deliberation.  Peace  was  in  his  soul,  because  she  clung  to  him 
and  would  not  leave  him,  though  ho  still  lingered.  He  quieted 
her  with  a  gesture  and  turned  to  his  kinsman. 

"  Elbert,"  he  said  with  grave  dignity,  "  you  wound  me  deeply. 


262  THE  LAGY  DIAMONDS. 

If  any  other  man  would  dare  do  what  you  have  done,  he  would 
have  to  render  account  to  me.  I  cannot  quarrel  with  you,  because 
you  are  my  mother's  kinsman.  I  must  stifle  my  just  resentment 
for  her  sake,  and  forgive  you.  If  this  rude  entrance  upon  your 
rightful  inheritance  is  excusable  at  all,  it  is  only  because  you  have 
fallen  back  into  your  intemperate  habits,  and  are  not  yourself. 
For  your  own  sake,  cousin,  I  pray  you  apologize  to  this  lady.  She 
is  the  widow  of  John  Lacy." 

"  I  apologize  to  the  widow  of  John  Lacy,"  replied  Elbert,  rising, 
while  the  purple  line  in  his  forehead  appeared  again.  ;'His 
memory  is  dear  to  me,  and  no  one  deplores  his  death  as  I  do  !  I 
do  not  like  this  lady  for  her  own  sake,  and  I  have  just  cause  for 
resentment,  I  think,  against  all  of  her  race.  But  let  that  pass.  I 
did  not  intend  this  rude  entrance.  I  came  to  say  to  her  that  my 
rights  should  remain  in  abeyance  while  she  chose  to  occupy  the 
Eed  Hall,  but  she  received  me  with  all  the  infernal  haughtiness 
of  those  Harwoods,  and  exasperated  me.  Do  you  think  I  am  dog- 
enough  to  eject  a  lady  from  my  house?  Shame  on  you,  Lacy 
Barston,  for  taking  the  part  of  any  one  against  your  only  living 
kinsman !" 

"  This  is  a  lame  apology,  Elbert " 

"Madame,"  said  the  baronet,  approaching  Eet,  who  recoiled 
and  clung  more  closely  to  Barstou.  "  Madame,  I  pray  you  par 
don  my  rudeness.  I  foresee  that  you  will  not  accept  my  hospi 
tality,  but  you  will  take  sore  revenge  for  all  my  rudeness  if  you 
leave  the  Eed  Hall  in  the  face  of  this  storm.  If  I  am  wanting  in 
decorous  manner  or  in  proper  forms  of  speech,  I  pray  you  attribute 
it  rather  to  my  rough  training  than  to  any  desire  to  offend  you.  I 
cannot  profess  a  friendship  that  I  do  not  feel,  but  I  sincerely  offer 
you  the  shelter  of  this  roof  so  long  as  you  will  accept  it." 

"  Come  away!"  said  Eet.  "  I  thank  you,  sir,  but  other  duties  call 
me  away.  Come  away,  I  tell  you,  or  I  shall  go  mad  1" 


THE  DROWNED  EATS.  263 

CHAPTER   LII. 
THE  DROWNED  EATS. 

AS  they  issued  from  the  door  of  the  Red  Hall,  Barston  glanced 
anxiously  at  the  gloomy  heavens.  Far  down  in  the  cast 
there  was  a  strip  of  blue  sky,  but  all  the  rest  of  the  vault  was  the 
blackness  of  darkness.  A  long,  ragged  tongue  of  cloud  stretched 
down  from  the  zenith,  seeming  to  touch  the  tall  tower  of  Lacy 
Keep.  The  leaves  were  motionless  upon  the  trees,  and  a  horrible 
calm,  full  of  dismal  portents,  overspread  the  face  of  nature.  The 
swallows,  which  had  their  nests  builded  under  the  coping  of  the 
tower,  were  sweeping  on  swift  wings  to  the  shelter  of  the  spruce 
plantation,  beyond  the  ruined  arch.  It  was  not  much  past  mid 
day,  yet  the  gray  light  was  more  like  the  gloaming  in  high  lati 
tudes,  with  the  added  obscurity  of  approaching  storm. 

"Ret,"  said  Barston,  "look  around  you  and  pause;  there  is  no 
mistaking  these  signs.  Come  with  me  to  Mrs.  Froome's  room,  and 
wait  until  the  tempest  passes." 

"  Away  1"  she  answered ;  "  take  me  away  !  No  tempest  can  be 
worse  than  the  shelter  of  that  roof !" 

"  Will  you  wait  until  I  order  the  carriage " 

"  No  carriage  !  It  is  his  !"  she  replied,  with  haughty  vehemence. 
"  I  can  walk !  Take  me  away !" 

Barston  led  Roland  from  the  arch  and  leaped  lightly  into  the 
saddle. 

"  Stand,  Roland !"  said  he,  throwing  the  bridle  upon  the  neck 
of  his  horse.  "  Give  me  your  hands  Ret — both  of  them — so.  Place 
your  foot  on  my  boot.  Up  !"  and  he  swung  her  before  him  on  the 
saddle  bow.  "  Ten  stone,  by  the  three  kings !"  he  muttered,  as 
he  gathered  up  the  rein.  "  Roland,  my  bonny  bay,  yon  carry 
more  than  Caesar  and  his  fortunes !  Away,  brave  Roland  !" 

Roland  reared  his  magnificent  body,  throwing  out  his  fore  legs 
as  if  he  were  bearing  a  handful  of  thistledown.  Then  bounding 
lightly  away  he  passed  through  the  arch  and  down  the  drive,  as 
if  he  had  been  projected  from  some  enormous  catapult.  At  the 
same  instant  a  sheet  of  flame  leaped  from  the  bosom  of  the  ragged 
cloud,  accompanied  by  a  crash  that  seemed  to  rend  the  earth 
under  Roland's  flying  feet.  As  they  turned  into  the  high  road 
Barston  looked  over  his  shoulder.  They  were  on  a  bit  of  rising 
ground,  and  the  Red  Hall  was  in  full  view. 


264  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

Torn  by  a  hundred  conflicting  emotions,  Lady  Lacy  was  for  the 
nonce  oblivious  of  conventional  proprieties.  Overbearing  all 
other  considerations  was  the  sharp  sting  of  humiliation,  as  she 
remembered  her  haughty  treatment  of  Sir  Elbert  Lacy  a  year  or 
two  before,  and  the  undeniable  fact  that  she  had  been  living,  ever 
since  her  marriage,  in  his  house  and  upon  his  land.  When  Barston 
acknowledged  Elbert's  identity,  all  doubt  concerning  his  legal 
rights  vanished,  and  she  could  find  no  answer  to  the  mocking 
words  of  the  new  claimant.  The  one  impetuous  purpose  upon  her 
mind  was  to  get  away  from  Lacy  Keep  ;  and  while  burning  with 
resentment  against  the  intruder,  her  keen  sense  of  right  recog 
nized  the  validity  of  his  title  and  her  consequent  trespass.  A 
dozen  schemes,  looking  to  the  payment  of  a  full  rental  for  all  the 
years  she  had  lived  at  the  Hall,  flitted  through  her  mind,  as  the 
thought  of  living  under  obligations  to  Elbert  Lacy,  late  Butler, 
was  monstrous.  Then,  mingled  with  these  reflections,  was  the 
blissful  thought  that  he,  her  hero,  Lacy  Barston,  had  at  last  come 
to  claim  her.  Since  the  day  when  he  held  up  his  arms  to  her, 
from  the  deck  of  the  steamer,  she  had  watched  and  waited  for  him, 
and  now,  when  those  strong  arms  were  around  her,  and  those 
dauntless  eyes  looking  so  longingly  into  hers,  what  marvel  that 
she  yielded  so  promptly  to  his  invitation.  One  swift  glance  at  his 
face  was  enough  to  tell  her  where  her  true  resting  place  should  be 
henceforth  ;  and  perhaps  also,  for  that  recognition  of  lordship,  of 
which  every  true  woman,  truly  mated,  is  conscious.  Hence  her 
prompt  obedience  when  Barston  bade  her  mount  Roland. 

"  Bet,"  he  said,  "  I  see  Mrs.  Frooine  at  the  door,  beckoning  with 
frantic  eagerness.  Shall  we  return  ?" 

"  Never !  Put  me  on  the  ground,  if  you  wish  to  go.  Never  more 
will  I  set  foot  on  Lacy  land !" 

"Put  you  down !"  said  Swiss ;  "  go  one  way,  and  leave  you  to 
go  another  ?  Hark !  Do  you  hear  the  roar  of  the  storm  ?  Are 
you  frightened  ?" 

She  drew  the  hood  of  her  cloak  over  her  face  and  leaned  it  upon 
his  sturdy  shoulder. 

"  It  seems  that  I  am  fated  to  ride  away  from  the  Eed  Hall  in 
the  rain,"  said  Barston.  "  Here  it  comes !  What  a  crash  was 
that !  Ret,  we  must  get  away  from  the  trees." 

"  Anywhere,  any  way,  only  not  back.    I  am  not  frightened." 

"  Here  we  are,  at  the  edge  of  the  Dark  Wood.  Ret,  I  parted  with 
Jack  just  here." 


THE  DROWNED  EATS.  265 

"  Did  lie  give  you  the  diamonds  ?" 

*<  What  do  you  say  F  said  Barston,  with  a  start. 

"  Tlie  diamonds  !  the  Lacy  Diamonds  !" 

"  I  never  had  the  diamonds,  Ret.    He  gave  me  nothing." 

"  Oh,  dear !"  said  Ket,  plaintively.  "  What  wretches  there  are 
in  the  world !  Mr.  Bottomry  and  Mr.  DeVere  both  told  me  that  you 
held  Sir  John's  securities.  I  have  waited  seven  years  for  you  to 
bring  them  back  to  me." 

"  I  never  had  securities,  Bet.  How  could  you  think  so  meanly 
of  me  F 

"  It  has  almost  killed  me,"  she  answered,  passionately.  "  I 
knew  the  necklace  was  worth  thirty  or  forty  thousand  pounds.  I 
saw  him  take  it  that  morning,  and  when  he  was  found  it  was  gone. 
He  had  seen  nobody  but  you." 

"  Yes,  he  had  seen  one  other.  I  will  tell  you  hereafter,  it  may  be. 
You  drove  me  away,  saying  you  hated  me." 

She  murmured  something  about  fear  of  falling,  and  slipped  her 
shapely  arm  around  his  neck. 

"  It  was  a  big  story,"  she  whispered. 

"  Sometimes,  when  I  have  been  on  the  tossing  sea,  Eet,  or  in  the 
quiet  woods,  I  have  recalled  your  .words  and  looks,  and  it  has 
seemed  to  me  that  you  meant  to  say  i  I  almost  love  you,  Lacy 
Barston  !'" 

She  clung  closer  to  him,  but  said  nothing. 

"  Because,"  he  continued,  "  with  my  profound  sense  of  unworthi- 
ness,  there  was  always  mingled  the  conviction  that  you  were  the 
only  woman  in  the  wide  universe  that  I  ever  loved,  or  could  love, 
and  I  thought  the  very  force  of  my  devotion,  which  you  know  is 
old  as  my  life,  must  conquer  your  repugnance  at  last.  Do  I  annoy 
you?" 

"  No,"  she  whispered,  softly. 

"  And  I  hoped  that  some  mistake — some  slander,  perhaps,  had 
damaged  me  in  your  eyes,  which  time  would  reveal  and  remove. 
Tell  me  why  you  thought  I  had  your  diamonds  F 

"  I  saw  him  take  them  that  last  day.  I  knew  he  was  sorely 
pressed  for  money,  that  he  owed  Mr.  Bottomry  and  Mr.  DeVere. 
When  he  was  found  the  diamonds  were  gone.  After  a  year  I  ap 
plied  to  them  both,  and  they  both  said  you  must  have  them, 
because  you  had  paid  them  all  Sir  John's  debts.  All  that  I  could 
hear  of  were  about  fifteen  thousand  pounds,  and  the  diamonds 
had  been  valued  at  Amsterdam  at  a  much  larger  sum.  I  have 


266  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

never  told  auy  one  before  that  they  were  gone,  and  I  hoped,  year 
after  year,  that  you  would  bring  them  back  to  me.  My  father, 
who  tells  me  everything,  told  me  two  years  ago  that  I  would  in 
herit  from  him  fifty  thousand  pounds,  and  that  I  could  have  it 
whenever  I  pleased  to  take  it.  Then  I  thought  I  would  get  back 
the  diamonds." 

"  There  was  something  else,  Eet." 

"Yes,  I  thought  I  heard  you  making  love  to  Kitty.  It  was  in 
the  conservatory  at  Morton  Priory.  You  said  she  must  go  live  at 
Oakland." 

"  Oh,  Eet !  how  could  you  so  woefully  mistake  me  ?" 

"I  found  out  my  error  after  you  left  me!  How  could  you  get 
your  own  consent  to  ride  away  in  such  a  towering  rage  ?  And  the 
rain !  I  thought  you  would  be  drowned !" 

All  this  time  the  rain  was  lashing  the  earth  with  a  roar,  but 
these  simple  creatures  heeded  it  not,  or  knew  it  not.  With  his 
left  arm  around  her,  holding  her  close  to  his  heart,  Swiss  was  un 
conscious  of  all  the  phenomena  of  convulsed  nature.  He  would 
not  have  noticed  an  earthquake.  Eet,  nestled  so  securely  there, 
only  knew  that  she  had  found  peace  at  last.  If  Eoland  had 
been  equal  to  it,  Eet  would  have  enjoyed  the  little  excursion,  if  it 
had  lasted  the  day. 

Eoland  said  nothing,  but  pounding  the  road  with  his  heavy 
hoofs,  galloped  on  elastically.  Ten  stone  additional  was  nothing 
to  him. 

"  What  did  you  mean  by  i  ten  stone,'  Mr.  Barston  P  she  said. 

"  Er — hem.  What  did  you  say,  Eet!"  replied  Swiss,  with  mani 
fest  confusion. 

"What  did  you  mean  by  'ten  stone,'  sir?  That  is  what  you 
said,  when  you  lifted  me  up !" 

"  Ten  stone  means  one  hundred  and  forty  pounds  avoirdupois," 
replied  Mr.  Barston.  "  I  was  probably  thinking " 

"  You  were  probably  swearing  at  so  much  additional  weight  on 
your  poor  horse !  It  is  a  story,  though !  I  don't  weigh  nearly  so 
much.  Let  me  down,  sir,  I  can  walk !" 

"  Swearing !"  said  Swiss,  holding  her  more  tightly.  It  is  the 
author's  deliberate  opinion  that  this  is  precisely  what  she  expect 
ed.  "  Swearing !  Let  you  down !  I  will  neATer  let  you  down,  Eet, 
while  Eoland  can  keep  on  his  legs,  until  you  tell  me  you  love  me." 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  tell  stories  P 

"No." 


THE  DROWNED  RATS.  267 

"  That  night  you  were  singing  on  the  terrace — lAh  !  che  la  mortif 
«you  almost  broke  iny  heart !  And  the  letters  you  wrote  to  Johnny 
— here  they  are,  all  of  them.  They  all  tell  the  same  story.  They 
all  say  you  love  me,  and  they  have  never  been  out  of  my  reach 
since  they  came.  I  have  read  them  every  day,  and  wept  over  them, 
and  wondered  if  you  would  never,  never,  never  come  for  me !  My 
hero !  my  darling !"  and  she  threw  back  the  hood,  drawing  his 
head  down  to  her,  and  kissed  him. 

tl  Love  youF  she  continued — "Ah,  how  little  do  you  know  how 
I  love  you  !  I  love  you  so  much  that  I  am  jealous  of  Johnny,  of 
Nellie,  my  baby !" 

"  You  need  not  be  jealous,  Eet.  Your  place  in  my  heart  is  not 
accessible  to  any  other.  I  have  never  lived  a  conscious  hour  since 
we  were  children,  when  you  were  not  uppermost  in  my  thoughts 
and  love.  My  own  Eet !  All  that  I  have  suffered  in  waiting  for 
this  hour  shrivels  up  into  nothingness.  I  have  not  lived  hitherto, 
i  have  dreamed  away  the  quarter  of  a  century  to  no  purpose.  Ah ! 
what  possibilities  are  in  my  future,  with  you  by  my  side  F 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  that  you  loved  me,  long  ago  !' ' 

"  Oh,  Ret,  I  was  so  poor " 

"  Shame  on  you !  If  you  had  but  whispered  to  me  that  you 
loved  me,  do  you  think  I  would  have  asked  about  your  money  ? 
And  now  that  you  have  money,  I  won't  have  you !  I  am  poor  now !" 

"You  just  told  me  you  had  fifty  thousand  pounds." 

"  Yes,  but  you  ought  to  have  more  than  that " 

"  I  hope  for  more.  I  want  one  hundred  and  forty  pounds  more. 
Oh,  you  dear  little  gossamer  butterfly !  how  I  love  you  P 

"  Let  me  go,  sir  !  Here  is  the  Priory !  Put  me  down  this  min 
ute  !  Oli,  you  poor  drowned  rat !  how  wet  you  are  !" 

Itet  walked  demurely  up  the  drive,  and  Swiss  followed,  leading 
Roland  by  the  bridle.  Roland  had  made  no  complaints,  but  he 
was  laughing  in  his  sleeve  at  his  master  and  mistress,  as  they  lin 
gered  in  the  downpour,  to  murmur  delicious  nothings  to  each 
other.  But  the  terrace  was  reached  at  last. 

"  Here  are  two  drowned  rats  !"  said  Lord  Morton.  "  Why,  Ret ! 
How  did  you  get  caught  in  this  storm  T  Come  in,  child.  Parson ! 
here  is  Mr.  Burst  on,  carrying  a  hundred  weight  of  rain  in  his 
habiliments.  Take  him  to  his  room,  Parson,  and  rub  him  down  ! 
Luncheon  is  just  ready.  But  we  will  wait  for  the  rats  !  Away 
with  you  !" 

"  My  lord,  Johnny,  my  lady  !"  said  Swiss,  as  Ret  slipped  through 


268  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

the  hall,  and  up  the  staircase, "  let  me  take  all  your  hands  at  once ! 
That  dear,  precious,  darling  Eet,  sneaking  away  yonder,  has 
promised  to  be  my  wife  !  Wish  me  joy !" 

Lady  Morton  kissed  him. 

The  rector  hugged  him,  and  got  his  coat  sleeves  wet  in  the  ope 
ration  ;  also  his  shirt  front. 

Lord  Morton  shook  his  hand  warmly. 

"Go  to  your  room,  Swiss,  my  dear  boy — my  dear  son— and  get 
dry  clothing.  Your  traps  are  there.  I  sent  for  them  while  you 
were  away.  Take  him  away,  Parson,  and  hug  him  after  he  is  dry  1 
I  give  you  twenty  minutes.  Go  after  the  other  rat,  my  dear  !" 

An  hour  later  the  joyful  household,  at  the  luncheon  table,  were 
admiring  the  glorious  sunlight  that  had  succeeded  the  storm. 
And  while  the  laugh  and  jest  were  passing  round,  a  messenger 
arrived  with  terrible  tidings. 

The  Lacy  Keep  had  been  stricken  by  lightning,  and  Sir  Elbert 
killed  at  the  moment  that  Swiss  and  Eet  had  ridden  away.  The 
Keep  was  in  ruins,  having  taken  fire,  and  the  old  wainscot  and 
flooring  burning  like  tinder,  were  all  consumed,  leaving  only  the 
naked  and  riven  walls  of  the  old  tower,  a  landmark  that  still 
adorns  that  beautiful  landscape. 


CHAPTEE    LIII. 
A  CONFESSION. 

THE  storm  through  which  the  happy  couple  passed,  courting 
under  difficulties,  was  an  exceptional  storm  in  that  peaceful 
latitude.  Swiss,  in  reading  a  description  of  it  in  the  Lavingtou 
paper,  pronounced  it  a  first  class  West  Indian  hurricane.  His 
mind  was  so  entirely  occupied  with  the  ten  stone  treasure  he 
carried,  that  he  did  not  remember  any  meteorological  phenomena, 
excepting  the  primal  flash  and  its  accompanying  roar.  It  was 
this  bolt  that  shattered  the  Keep,  and  struck  down  its  new  lord, 
and  the  last  of  the  Lacy  line.  Mrs.  Frooine  and  Kitty,  with 
William's  assistance,  carried  the  body  of  Sir  Elbert  to  the  newer 
portion  of  the  Eed  Hall,  which  escaped  the  conflagration  that 
destroyed  the  old  Tower.  He  was  buried  in  the  ancient  cemetery, 
and  his  funeral  was  attended  by  all  the  gentry  of  the  neighbour 
hood.  Mr.  Parchment  came  from  London,  and  Mr.  Macdower 


A    CONFESSION.  269 

from  Stirling,  all  under  Barston's  management,  to  identify  the 
baronet  and  his  widow,  and  to  comply  with  the  legal  requirements 
to  fix  the  succession.  It  is  worthy  of  note  that  Mr.  Macdower 
was  somewhat  doubtful  as  to  Kitty's  identity,  in  her  black  attire, 
until  Swiss  borrowed  the  diamond  brooch,  which  she  fastened  on 
her  breast.  Then  the  Scot  swore  to  her,  point  blank.  This  shows 
the  value  of  circumstantial  evidence. 

The  lands  passed  to  Barston  now  in  spite  of  his  opposition.  His 
first  act  was  to  convey  them  to  Ellen  Lacy,  infant,  to  her  and  her 
heirs  forever.  As  he  had  some  new  schemes  iu  view,  he  burnt  the 
will  he  had  made  at  her  birth,  in  which  he  had  made  her  his  sole 
heiress.  Ret's  zeal  to  pay  him  the  fifteen  thousand  pounds,  over 
which  they  had  formerly  quarrelled,  had  gotten  drowned  out 
between  the  Red  Hall  and  the  Priory,  on  the  first  day  of  August. 

On  the  sixth  day  of  the  same  month  these  two  happened  to 
meet  in  the  conservatory  at  Morton  Priory.  The  sashes  were  all 
opened  and  the  beautiful  lawn  seemed  to  have  pushed  its  way  up 
to  the  house,  coming  in  under  the  glazed  roof  of  the  conservatory, 
and  mingling  the  odours  of  the  out-door  flowers  with  those  of  the 
tenderer  plants  within.  Ret  and  Mr.  Barston  were  seated  in  a 
secluded  corner  of  the  conservatory,  where  nobody  would  be  likely 
to  disturb  them.  There  is  generally  an  exception  to  all  established 
rules,  and  Nellie  was  the  exception  this  time. 

"  I  want  to  go  ride  with  you  on  Roland  !"  she  began,  as  she 
crawled  upon  Mr.  Barston's  knee. 

"  Roland  has  lost  a  shoe,  baby.  I  have  sent  him  to  Lavington 
to  get  a  new  one." 

"  Mamma  says,"  said  Nellie,  while  a  tear  rolled  out  of  each 
round  eye,  "  that  I  mustn't  call  you  '  papa '  any  more !" 

"  Does  she  !  Well,  wait  nine  more  days,  and  then  mamma  will 
teach  you  to  call  me  papa  again  1  Will  you  wait,  Nellie  f 

"  Yes !"  said  Nellie,  clapping  her  hands.  She  slid  down  from 
his  knee,  and  seeing  a  butterfly  on  the  lawn,  bolted  out  in  full 
chase.  Ret  looked  at  his  placid  face  with  blank  astonishment. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  telling  the  child  such  absurd  stories  t 
It  would  be  horridly  indecorous.  I  shall  not  allow  her  to  do  any 
thing  of  the  kind  !" 

"  When  I  call  you  wife,  Ret,"  said  Swiss,  "  you  can  surely  allow 
Nellie  to  call  me  papa !" 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  blushing,  "but  not  before." 

"  Certainly  not !"  said  Mr.  Barston,  taking  her  hand  and  kiss- 


270  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

ing  it.    "  I  meant  Nellie  to  understand  that  the  happy  time  would 
come  nine  days  hence,  when  Johnny  and  Clare " 

"  Are  you  stark,  raving,  distracted,  crazy  F 

"  Very  nearly,  Eet !  The  thought  of  waiting  nine  more  days 
almost  drives  me  mad  !  Oh,  how  long  have  I  waited  !  And  now 
I  must  pass  nine  more  miserable  days,  forsooth,  just  because 
Johnny  was  such  a  booby  as  to  appoint  the  fifteenth  of  August !" 
and  he  got  her  hand  again,  which  she  had  snatched  away,  and 
kissed  it  once  more. 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  Mr.  Barston,"  said  Eet, 
with  great  dignity,  "  you  cannot  have  lost  every  grain  of  sense  ; 
yet  the  idea  of  proposing  to  a  lady  on  the  first  of  the  month,  and 
expecting  her  to  marry  you  two  weeks  after,  hardly  admits  of  dis 
cussion." 

11  Two  weeks  !  Is  it  thus  you  measure  time,  Eet  ?  I  asked  you 
formerly,  two — nay,  three  years  ago !  When  do  you  think  it  will 
be  proper  to  marry  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  1  in  two  or  three  years.    Let  go  my  hand,  sir  F 

"  Don't  you  love  me  enough  yet  I  Alas  !  I  had  set  my  heart  on 
this,  and  I  thought  you  would  remember  how  long  I  have  waited 
for  you  !  Ah,  Eet  1"  he  continued,  plaintively,  "  I  cannot  press 
this  suit,  because  I  feel  unworthy  of  you " 

"  I  do  wish  you  would  try  to  talk  reasonably !"  said  Eet.  "  Don't 
you  understand  that  nobody  in  the  world  knows  that  you — you 
said  all  that  to  me,  three  years  ago !  I  never  told  Mother  or 
Father!" 

"  No,  my  darling,"  said  Swiss,  innocently.  "  I  thought  you  had 
not,  so  I  told  them  last  night ;  also,  Johnny  and  Clare." 

"  Eeally !"  said  she,  biting  her  lips,  "  may  I  inquire  what  they 
said?" 

"  Ah,  Eet !"  said  the  hypocrite — "  it  will  avail  nothing  to  tell 
you.  If  you  have  only  thought  of  me  as  your  possible  husband 
for  six  days,  I  could  not  ask  you  to  marry  me  on  the  fifteenth,  no 
matter  what  they  think.  By  the  three  kings  of  Cologne !  I'd  die 
a  thousand  deaths  before  I  would  ask  so  monstrous " 

"  If  you  will  please  stop  swearing,  sir,"  said  the  lady,  with  crisp 
politeness,  "  and  tell  me  what  Mother  said — I  don't  care  about  the 
others !  Johnny  and  Clare  are  half  demented,  and  poor  Father  is 
just  led  about  by  the  nose  by  these  two.  What  did  Mother  say  ?" 

"  Oh,  Eet,"  said  the  sly  rascal,  with  a  rueful  face,  "  please  don't 
ask  me — and  please  don't  say  anything  to  any  of  them  about  it. 


A   CONFESSION.  271 

I  am  mortified  enough  as  it  is  !  You  will  marry  me  in  five  or  six 
years.  Don't  humiliate  your  future  husband  unnecessarily." 

Ret  felt  a  little  like  crying.  But  she  thought  she  would  rather 
scratch  Swiss,  just  over  his  big  eyes,  looking  so  sadly  into  hers. 

"  If  you  can't  tell  me  what  Mother  said,  I  can't  tell  what  to  say. 
You  seem  determined  to  distress  me !" 

"  My  beloved  !  I  will  tell  you.  They  all  said,  with  one  voice, 
that  there  should  be  a  double  wedding  on  the  fifteenth.  Your 
darling  Mother — oh,  how  I  love  her,  Ret ! — was  the  first  to  say  so." 

"  Why,  you  lunatic  !"  said  Ret,  starting  to  her  feet.  "  It  is  wholly 
impossible.  I — I — have  no  things— there !  and  all  the  milliners 
and  mantuamakers  in  Devon  could  not  get  me  ready  in  this  inde 
cent  haste !" 

"  Please  sit  down  again  1"  said  Swiss,  plaintively ;  "  I  have  a 
confession  to  make  1  I  know  it  will  ruin  me  forever  iu  your  eyes — 
but  I  cannot  bear  to  deceive  you  any  longer.  Sit  down,  Ret !  I 
will  make  a  clean  breast  of  it — and  then — I  think  I  will  go  to  sea 
again !" 

Ret  sat  down,  with  amazement  in  her  face.  Swiss  knelt  on  a 
flower  stand  by  her  side,  and  propping  his  head  with  his  hand, 
half  concealing  his  eyes,  began  his  story.  There  was  a  melancholy 
intonation  in  his  voice,  that  awakened  her  sympathy. 

"  Ret,"  he  began,  with  sorrowful  accents,  "  you  know  that  I  am 
entirely  ignorant  of  all  proprieties  in  this  business  !  You  are  the 
only  woman  that  I  ever  spoke  to  of  love.  I  have  never  thought 
of  any  other.  And  when  I  thought  you  might  learn  to  love  me,  I 
did  not  dream  of  any  difficulties  in  the  way.  I  will  ask  her  again,  I 
said  to  myself,  and  if  she  says  yes,  I  will  be  married  with  Johnny  ! 
So,  not  having  an  opportunity  to  consult  you — I — wrote  to  Clare 
at  the  Hotel  de  Lisle — and  besought  her  to  buy  all  the  things  for 
you  that  she  was  buying  for  herself !  I  begged  her  to  conceal  her 
movements  from  you — as  I  had  not  yet  had  that  blessed  ride  in 
the  rain  !  my  second  ride  in  the  rain,  Ret !  Oh,  how  hard  hearted 
you  are  I  "Well !  I  sent  Clare  a  cheque  for  a  thousand  pounds, 
as  I  did  not  know  how  much  things  cost.  She  has  given  me  no 
change.  She  has  about  forty  trunks  and  boxes  up  stairs,  belong 
ing  to  you.  Stop  one  moment,  Ret !  Hear  me  out,  I  pray  !  She 
has  been  dying  to  get  a  peep  at  the  things  ever  since  they  came, 
but  has  loyally  refrained.  She  said  you  had  milliners  and  all  that 
sort  of  thing  in  Paris,  and  she  knew  your  peculiar  tastes — and  so 
she  made  the  purchases — and  the  things  are  in  this  house. 


272  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  And  now,  Bet,  please  say  you  forgive  me !  You  can  tell  Lady 
Morton  that  certain  insurmountable  obstacles  are  in  the  way  at 
present — and  I — I  have  never  been  to  Greenland.  I  will  go  to 
Greenland,  and  wait  there,  until  your  time  arrives  to  make  me 
happy ! 

"  As  for  living  on  this  island,  within  reach  of  you,  within  sound 
of  your  voice,  and  yet  know  that  I  cannot  call  you  my  wife — and 
call  that  darling  baby  my  daughter — by  the  three  kings  !  I'll 
never  stand  it !  Never !  Never  !" 

As  he  turned  away  from  her  she  rose  from  her  seat  and  march 
ed  to  the  door. 

"  Please  to  sit  down  and  wait  for  me  a  few  minutes,  sir.  I  will 
return  immediately." 

When  she  whisked  her  dress  through  the  glass  door,  Mr.  Swiss 
composedly  took  out  his  cigar  case  and  struck  a  Vesuvius. 

"Puff!  puff!"  he  said.  "Clare  is  about  to  catch  it!  I  am 
thankful  that  I  am  through  my  part,  and  still  live.  I  wonder  why 
that  rascally  tailor  has  not  sent  my  things  down  I" 


OHAPTEE  LIV. 
ORNITHOLOGICAL. 

author  of  this  volume  once  had  the  pleasure  of  going  into 
~  a  railway  station  behind  a  locomotive.  It  had  u  jumped 
the  track,"  as  he  was  informed  afterwards,  and  did  not  go  into 
the  station  very  quietly.  It  is  probable  that  Bet's  entrance  into 
Clare's  chamber  was  in  very  similar  fashion.  The  gentlemen  who 
manage  experiments  in  gunnery,  at  Shoeburyness,  can  calculate 
to  a  nicety  how  hard  a  knock  can  be  given  by  a  hundred  pounder, 
projected  by  a  given  weight  of  powder.  If  these  scientists  were 
within  reach  they  might  estimate  the  force  with  which  a  hundred 
and  forty  pounds  of  sweetness,  tortured  by  a  villain  like  Swiss 
into  a  state  of  "  demnition  sweetness,"  would  go  through  that 
chamber  door. 

Miss  Tamworth  was  expecting  her.  She  rose  at  her  entrance 
and  ran  to  meet  her,  kissing  her  tenderly.  Bet  feebly  repulsed 
her. 


ORNITHOLOGICAL.  273 

"  Clare !"  slie  said,  viciously,  "  this  is  a  nice  business  I    Could 
I  believe  that  you — you — would  have  treated  me  so  shamefully  F 
"  What  do  you  mean,  Eet  f" 

"  Oh,  you  are  very  innocent !  That  crazy  man  down  stairs  has 
told  me  all  about  it!  I  declare  I  feel  so  hurt  !  Oh,  Clare,  it  was 
base !" 

Clare  began  to  whimper. 

"  There  !  there !"  said  Eet,  kissing  her ;  "  please  don't  cry.  I 
suppose  it  was  not  all  your  fault !  Ah  1"  she  said,  with  pro 
phetic  wrath,  as  she  clenched  her  little  hand,  "  won't  I  dress  him 
for  this !  Just  wait,  my  gentleman  !  Where  are  the  things, 
Clare  V ' 

"  I  don't  k-n-o-w  what  you  m-m-mean !"  whimpered  Clare. 
"  Don't  you,  dear  ?     The  lunatic  said  you  had  forty  boxes  and 
trunks  belonging  to  me — bought  in  Paris — under  my  own  nose  P 
"  Oh  !  yes,  they  are  all  locked  up  in  the  Blue  Eoom.    Here  is 
the  key.    May  I  go  with  you  ?"  she  said,  timidly. 

"  Of  course.  I  shall  want  you  to  tell  me  what  purposes  the 
things  are  to  serve.  Come  along,  pray." 

"  My  love,"  said  Clare,  as  she  unlocked  the  boxes,  "  almost  all 
of  these  are  duplicates  of  my  own  purchases.  Some  of  the  dresses 
I  made  you  select — you  know,  my  darling,  that  I  could  not  help 
it.  If  you  don't  want  them,  they  will  all  fit  me,  with  very  little 
alteration.  But  I  really  thought,  until  last  night,  that  there  was 
an  understanding  between  you  and  the  lunatic.  I  thought  there 
had  been  a  little  quarrel  and  that  you  had  made  it  up.  Oh,  Eet ! 
that  poult  de  sole  is  lovely,  lovely,  lovely !  Did  you  ever  see  more 
exquisite  taste  I  Madame  Lacroix  is  faultless.  Please  slip  this 
skirt  on.  Oh,  Eet,  I  hope  you  won't  like  it !  Heigho  !  I  am  so 
sorry  that  I  was  misled — I  did  not  know  the  man  was  crazy.  My 
darling  child  !  you  shall  never  marry  a  crazy  man  1  This  is  the 
poplin,  Eet.  That  shade  is  entirely  new,  and  it  is  lovely  ! 

"  Oh,  Eet,  I  found  out  something  I  Do  you  remember  that  story 
of  Mr.  Bars  ton  and  the  French  officer  at  Sebastopol  ?  Well,  his 
widow  is  Madame  Dutilh,  the  milliner  in  the  Passage  de  1'Orme  ! 
She  knows  Mr.  Barston  I  He  bought  Nellie's  hat  there  I  And  he 
ordered  a  bonnet  and  left  her  three  hundred  francs  to  pay  for  it ! 
And  it  is  here  !  Eet,  my  maid  carried  that  dreadful  box  in  her 
hand  all  the  way  from  Paris.  She  kept  hold  of  it  when  crossing 
that  horrid  channel,  even  when  she  thought  she  was  dying  I  I 
have  never  seen  it !  See !  it  is  sealed  up,  where  the  cords  cross. 

18 


274  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

Shall  we  open  it?  Oh,  that's  a  dear — where  are  ray  scissors? 
here — snip,  snip.  It  is  all  wrapped  in  tissue  paper.  Ah,  Eet !" 

The  two  lovely  ladies  fell  on  their  knees,  one  on  each  side  of  the 
bonnet  box.  It  was  a  great  deal  worse  than  the  golden  calf  busi 
ness,  as  this  idol  was  a  flimsy  thing,  made  up  of  a  minute  frag 
ment  of  straw,  and  other  fragments  of  lace  and  ribbons.  They 
gazed,  enraptured.  At  length,  Clare  took  it  up  gingerly,  and 
placed  it  on  Eet's  head,  with  a  little  shriek  of  joy.  Eet  allowed 
herself  to  be  led  to  the  mirror,  where  she  half  dislocated  her 
superb  neck,  trying  to  look  at  the  back  of  her  head.  They  stood 
near  the  window,  and  Mr.  Barston,  lolling  on  the  bench  in  the 
conservatory,  overheard  their  comments. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  bonnet,  Eet  P 

"  Never !  never!    Oh,  Clare,  it  is  a  duck." 

They  were  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Lady  Morton. 

"Mother!"  said  Eet,  "he  wants  me  to  marry  him  on  the 
fifteenth!" 

"  He  P 

"  Yes,  ma'am  !"  said  Clare ;  "  she  means  that  wretched  in 
ebriate " 

"  Whom  do  you  mean,  Miss  Tarn  worth  P  said  Eet. 

"  I  mean  your  lunatic,  of  course.  My  lady,  lie  ordered  this 
bonnet ;  just  please  look  at  it !" 

"  What  superb  lace,  Eet !"  said  her  Mother ;  "  it  is  beautiful, 
indeed.  Well,  my  dear,  what  did  you  tell  him  ?" 

"  I  did  not  tell  him  anything.    If  you  say  I  must " 

"  I  think  you  must,  Eet.  I  have  loved  the  poor  motherless  boy 
ever  since  I  first  saw  him.  You  are  a  happy  woman,  daughter." 

"  Where  is  Father  P  said  Eet,  placing  the  dainty  bonnet  in  its 
box. 

"  In  the  library;"  and  with  one  lingering  look  at  the  duck,  Eet 
departed. 

Lord  Morton  was  poring  over  a  parliamentary  report.  Eet 
took  her  seat  on  his  knee,  and  put  her  arms  round  his  neck  and 
hid  her  face  on  his  shoulder. 

"  He  wants  me  to  be  married  on  the  fifteenth,  sir,"  she  whis 
pered. 

"  Of  course,  Eet.    Why  not  P 

"  It  seems  so  dreadfully  sudden,  sir." 

"  Sudden  !  Pooh !  The  poor  fellow  has  been  courting  you  for 
three  years !  Do  you  love  him,  Eet  P 


ORNITHOLOGICAL.  275 

"  Yes,  sir,  a  little." 

"  Well,  I  love  him  very  much  as  I  do  my  other  boys.  When 
you  kiiow  him  better  you  will  love  him  more,  Eet." 

"  Have  you  any  money,  sir  F  said  Eet,  tossing  her  head. 

"  Money !    Certainly !    How  much  do  you  want  F 

"  A  thousand  pounds,  sir,  please." 

"  Hum,  that  is  a  moderate  demand,  certainly.  I  do  not 
usually  carry  such  sums  in  my  pocket.  I  shall  have  to  write  a 
cheque." 

"  That  will  do,  sir.    Thank  you,  sir." 

Mr.  Swiss  came  forward  as  she  reappeared.  He  had  resumed 
his  melancholy  air  of  resignation,  and  something  in  his  attitude 
recalled  Lady  Morton's  expression,  "  the  poor  motherless  boy." 
He  was  a  tolerably  well  grown  orphan,  too. 

"  Since  you  left  me,  Eet,"  he  began,  "  I  have  been  thinking 
what  a  wretch  I  was  to  order  those  things.  It  all  comes  of  a  habit 
of  mine.  When  I  have  a  purpose  in  view  I  always  try  to  provide 
the  minutest  details.  I  reasoned  in  this  wise :  if  she  consents  to 
marry  me,  she  will  require  the  same  sort  of  preparation — things, 
in  fact,  that  Clare  is  purchasing.  I  cannot  ask  her  about  the 
things  until  I  ask  her  to  take  me.  I  cannot  ask  her  to  take  me 
until  I  see  her.  If  I  don't  get  the  things  now,  it  will  be  too  late 
when  they  come  from  Paris — 

"There!  there!"  said  Eet,  "you  need  not  make  any  more  ex 
planations.  How  did  you  become  acquainted  with  Madame 
Dutilh  F 

"  What !  you  mean  the  milliner  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  mean  the  milliner." 

"  I  found  her  in  the  Passage  de  1'Orme,  soon  after  her  husband, 
the  captain,  died.  He  was  wounded  in  the  Crimea." 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  understand,"  said  Eet. 

"  And  I  felt  a  great  interest  in  her.  He  was  a  gallant  fellow, 
Eet,  for  a  Frenchman." 

"  And  you  naturally  tried  to  comfort  his  widow  F 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Eet  ?  She  is  a  yellow,  shrivelled  little 
Frenchwoman,  and  takes  snuff!" 

"Indeed!" 

"  If  you  had  not  been  so  deeply  offended,  Eet,  I  meant  to  talk 
to  you  about  the  trip  to  the  lli.uhlamls.  I  have  been  picturing  to 
myself  the  most  delightful  honeymoon  in  the  midst  of  that  grand 
scenery.  I  thought  you  would  climb  Ben  Nevis  with  me, 
and " 


276  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"I  thought  you  had  concluded  to  try  Greenland,"  said  Ret, 
slyly. 

"Not  unless  you  drive  me  there.  Ah,  Ret!  why  are  you  so 
obdurate  ?  If  you  will  let  me  have  my  way  this  time,  you  will 
thenceforward  own  the  most  abject  slave " 

"  I  don't  want  any  abject  slaves,  sir  P 

"  Well,  the  most  loyal  subject,  then,  for  you  are  my  queen,  Ret. 
You  don't  look  quite  so  angry  now.  If  you  will  only  tell  me  that 
you  forgive  me  about  the  things,  I  will  not  transgress  again." 

"  I  suppose  not,"  answered  Ret  j  "  it  is  rather  expensive.  Here, 
sir !  allow  me  to  return  the  thousand  pounds,  with  my  thanks. 
You  need  not  promise  not  to  repeat  the  offence.  It  is  not  at  all 
probable  that  you  will  offer  your  wife  such  a  sum  to  spend  in 
Paris !" 

"  Shall  I  go  to  Greenland,  Ret  ?"  said  Swiss,  as  he  put  the 
cheque  in  his  pocket-book.  "  This  will  pay  all  expenses  at  least. 
I  may  as  well  tell  you  that  Lord  Morton  gave  me  a  similar  cheque 
last  night,  in  settlement  of  my  outlays " 

"  Give  me  back  that  money !"  said  Ret.  "  There !  let  me  go, 
sir,  or  I'll  scream.  Greenland!  Ah,  would  you  dare  leave  me 
again?"  and  she  secreted  and  dropped  a  dozen  tears  in  three 
seconds,  which  Swiss  kissed  away  in  the  same  space  of  time. 

"  May  I  ask  you  one  question,  my  precious  Ret  T 

«  Yes." 

"  Was  the  bonnet  a  regular  duck,  my  love  ?" 

She  extricated  herself  from  his  aims,  and  walked  with  stately 
dignity  to  the  glass  door.  Pausing  at  the  threshold,  she  turned 
upon  him  a  withering  look,  while  he  choked  and  coughed,  trying 
to  restrain  his  mirth. 

"  Yes,  sir  1"  she  said,  severely.  "  It  is  a  duck.  And  you  will 
permit  me  to  add,  that  you  are  a  goose  I" 


CHAPTER    L.V. 

'  THE  LORDS  OF  CREATION. 

Ewas  late  in  October,  and  summer  departed  with  great  reluc- 
iance.    All  the  country  around  Morton  Priory  was  sleeping  in 
beauty.    Lord  and  Lady  Morton,  with  their  two  sons,  had  gone  to 
Essex,  and  were  expected  to  return  that  afternoon  to  lovely  Devon. 


THE  LORDS  OF  CREATION.  277 

In  the  famous  conservatory  two  American  rocking  chairs,  made  of 
split  hickory,  and  exceedingly  comfortable,  were  occupied  by  two 
happy  bridegrooms,  who  had  left  their  partners  at  the  luncheon 
table.  Were  they  smoking  ?  Of  course. 

"  These  are  the  Colorados,  Swiss,"  said  the  rector.  "  If  any  of 
your  keys  will  fit  Father's  cigar  case,  there  are  some  Oscuros  there, 
I  know  I" 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  would  commit  petty  larceny,  you  old  burglar?" 
replied  Mr.  Barston. 

"No  indeed ;  we  could  put  some  of  these  light  ones  back ;  Father 
prefers  them.  It  would  not  be  robbery — only  an  exchange." 

"  Where  did  you  get  them,  Parson  ?" 

"  In  Father's  dressing  room." 

"If  mine  wasn't  lighted  I  would  reject  it  with  indignation, 
Johnny  !  Stealing  is  a  mean  vice  at  any  time.  But  stealing  from 
that  great  and  good  man,  Lord  Morton,  is  positively  infamous  !" 

"  Pooh  I  He  left  them  there  for  us,  of  course.  Isn't  this  jolly, 
Swiss  F 

"  Paradisaical,  Johnny.  How  one's  views  of  life  are  enlarged 
by  matrimony  1  Do  you  know,  Parson,  that  you  and  I  have 
wasted  all  our  former  lives  ?  We  are  now  beginning  our  careers. 
You  will  preach  a  thousand  times  better " 

"  Haven't  written  a  sermon  for  nearly  three  months  !"  said  the 
rector,  dolefully.  "  I  don't  know  where  to  begin.  I  haven't  read 
a  word  in  a  book,  and  hardly  looked  at  a  newspaper." 

"  Books  !  you  don't  need  books.  You  have  the  sweetest  wife  in 
the  world,  excepting  one,  and  you  can  learn  more  in  one  hour's 
conversation  with  her  than  you  could  learn  from  forty  books.  And 
if  she  don't  know  enough,  Eet  can  instruct  her.  She  knows  every 
thing  !" 

"  That  is  comical !"  quoth  the  rector ;  "  what  little  poor  Eet  knows 
she  has  learned  from  Clare  !  Swiss,  she  is  the  most  superior 
woman  in  England  I" 

"  It  will  avail  nothing,  Johnny,  to  discuss  their  relative  merits. 
Since  I  have  been  married,  I  have  begun  to  understand  what  is 
meant  by  the  lordship  of  man  over  the  intelligent  creation.  His 
dominion  over  the  brutes  is  a  small  matter.  But  when  he  has  a 
wife  who  spends  her  lifetime  in  studying  his  merest  whims — who 
anticipates  his  wishes  almost  before  they  are  shaped  in  his  own 
mind,  by  her  keen  perception,  and  who  yields  her  preferences  with 
such  charming  grace  and  sweetness — it  is  then,  and  then  only, 
that  man  appreciates  his  lordship  !n 


278  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  "Exactly  !"  replied  the  rector — "  only  sometimes  one  does  not 
know  precisely  what  one  wants.  Then  the  dear  angel  enlightens 
him,  and  he  has  his  own  way,  without  knowing  it." 

"  Pish  !  You  have  not  risen  to  the  grandeur  of  my  thought. 
Women  have  a  faculty  by  which  they  perceive  our  hidden  pur 
poses,  while  our  slower  logic  is  plodding  to  a  conclusion." 

"  Yes,"  responded  Mr.  Harwood  ;  "  Do  you  remember  our  as 
cent  of  Ben  Lomond  ?" 

"No,"  spluttered  Swiss — "we  did  not  ascend  that  inaccessible 
height.  It  was  a  foolish  project " 

"  Yes.  That  was  what  Eet  said,"  replied  the  Parson  dryly.  "  I 
suppose  her  quick  perception  had  enabled  her  to  discover  that  it 
would  wear  out  her  boots  !  Clare  and  I  went  to  the  top  of  that 
Ben  !" 

"And  came  back  again  as  cross  as  two  amiable  grimalkins ! 
Eet  and  I  staid  below  in  the  heather,  discoursing  like  sensible 
people." 

"  You  made  sad  havoc  with  the  dinner,  though  ;  I  only  got  a 
small  taste  of  the  grouse  pie." 

"  What  a  regular  glutton  you  must  be,  Parson,"  said  Swiss — 
"  you  have  fallen  into  bad  habits.  Eating  and  smoking  are  not 
the  chief  end  of  your  existence  !  Who  is  there  f ' 

"I  want  you,  please  !"  answered  a  sweet  voice  from  the  lawn. 

"  Do  you  want  me,  madame  f  said  Swiss,  rising. 

"No,  I  don't  want  'me,  madame;'  I  want  the  Eeverend  Mr. 
Harwood,"  replied  Clare.  "  I  can't  come  in  there  among  all  that 
horrid  smoke  !  It  would  ruin  my  shawl  !  The  odour  would  never 
come  out.  Never !" 

"My  dear  Parson,"  whispered  Swiss,  "now  is  your  opportunity. 
It  is  highly  unreasonable  to  call  you  away  from  your  smoke. 
Your  digestive  organs  require " 

"What  are  you  whispering  about?"  inquired  Mrs.  Harwood. 
'"  Are  you  coming?" 

"  In  a  moment,  my  dear  !"  replied  the  rector.  "  I  cannot  come 
with  my  cigar,  you  know.  Will  you  wait  for  me  ?" 

"  Not  a  second !" 

The  rector  glanced  irresolutely  at  Swiss. 

"  Go  !"  said  that  worthy ;  "  go !  you  hen-pecked  old  wretch ! 
You  deserve  your  bondage,  because  you  have  not  had  pluck 
enough  to  assert  your  lordship  from  the  first.  Go  along  with  you!" 

"  It  is  only  a  Colorado  !"  quoth  the  rector,  throwing  his  weed 
away  and  stalking  majestically  out. 


THE  LORDS  OF  CREATION.  279 

Mr.  Barston  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and  laughed  until  the 
tears  ran  down  upon  his  beard. 

"  That  dear  Clare  is  a  stunner !"  he  said,  watching  the  couple  as 
they  walked  away.  "*But  she  suits  Johnny  admirably.  Evidently 
he  does  not  appreciate  the  kingship,  which  he  relinquishes  so 
lightly.  That  was  a  famous  dodge  of  his,  to  express  his  contempt 
for  '  Colorados.'  To  such  base  subterfuges  must  the  man  come 
who  does  not  reign  in  his  own  household.  Poor  old  Johnny !  His 
cigar  was  rather  more  than  half  smoked  though.  It  will  be  jolly 
to  tell  him  that  I  had  two.  I  think  I  will  light  another." 

"  I  don't  think  you  will,"  said  another  melodious  voice,  as  a 
plump  arm  was  passed  around  his  neck,  and  his  cigar  removed  by 
dainty  taper  fingers.  "  This  makes  four  to-day,"  continued  Eet, 
"  and  you  will  soon  require  a  dozen  to  satisfy  you.  Your  system 
is  full  of  nicotine,  and  you  will  have  softening  of  the  brain  pre 
sently.  The  specific  effect  of  that  poison  is  to  retard  the  circula 
tion.  Congestion — then  paralysis " 

"  Where  in  the  world  did  you  pick  up  all  that  lore,  my  darling  fj 
said  Mr.  Barston,  submissively. 

"  No  matter  where,"  replied  madame ;  "  it  is  sound  doctrine, 
however.  Faugh !  the  conservatory  smells  like  a  German  beer 
garden !  Come  out  1" 

Swiss  followed,  with  a  hang-dog  expression  of  countenance 
totally  at  variance  with  his  discourse  on  lordship. 

"  My  dear,"  said  Ket,  taking  his  arm,  and  following  the  grinning 
rector  and  his  wife 5  "don't  you  think  a  man  of  your  excellent 
sense  should  put  some  restraint  upon  so  harmful  a  habit  ?  I  would 
never  dream  of  interference,  except  for  your  own  sake,  my  love. 
But  when  I  think  of  you  falling  over  in  a  fit  of  apoplexy,  I  am 
ready  to  scream " 

"  Don't  scream,  you  precious  angel !"  said  Swiss.  "  I  am  sure 
that  would  throw  me  into  a  fit,  without  the  aid  of  nicotine.  I  have 
such  unlimited  confidence  in  your  judgment,  my  love,  that  I  will 
promise  to  confine  my  fumigations  within  whatever  limits  you 
direct." 

Eet  squeezed  his  arm. 

"  Do  you  think  I  would  put  limits  upon  you  ?  Do  you  think  I 
would  measure  my  feeble  intellect  with  your  clear,  sound  judg 
ment  !  Never  !  never  !  All  that  I  ask  of  you  is  to  consider  the 
matter,  and  I  will  freely  promise  to  speak  of  it  no  more.  Only  re 
member  how  desolate  your  poor  wife  would  bo  if  you  were  to  kill 
yourself  with  that  dread  ful  nicotine  1" 


280  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

"  Well,  Bet,"  quoth  Mr.  Barston,  with  ail  air  of  superb  royalty, 
"  I  will  investigate  the  whole  subject  thoroughly.  And,  in  the 
meantime,  I  will  only  smoke  one  more  to-day;  just  one,  after 
dinner." 

They  speedily  overtook  the  rector  and  Clare. 

"Where  is  your  cigar,  Swiss  f  said  Mr.  Harwood.  t  , 

"  Smoked  out,  Parson." 

"  Won't  you  have  another  ?" 

"  Not  now,  thank  you.  The  truth  is,  Johnny,  I  am  reluctant  to 
smoke  stolen  cigars  at  second  hand.  I  don't  mind  stealing  yours, 
when  I  know  you  got  them  honestly." 

"Very  lame,  Swiss!"  said  the  rector.  "Now  listen,  you  old 
humbug  !  These  charming  ladies  were  hidden  behind  the  lemon 
trees  while  you  were  discoursing  so  eloquently  about  lordship. 
They  silently  retired  and  concocted  their  little  plot.  My  demure 
little  wife  called  me  out,  and  I  obeyed.  Your  angelic  wife  collared 
you  and  brought  you  out.  The  next  time  you  wish  to  enlarge 
upon  the  domination  of  the  husband,  you  had  better  get  in  the 
open  fields,  or  like  that  other  old  humbug,  Demosthenes,  upon  the 
margin  of  the  sea !  Laugh  at  him,  girls  !" 

"  My  dear  Parson,"  said  Swiss,  his  voice  falling  into  the  sweet 
tones  that  indicated  earnest  sincerity,  "  my  experience  has  been 
large  enough  to  teach  me  this  much:  It  is  so  delicious  to  dis 
crown  one's  self,  and  to  lay  one's  diadem  at  the  feet  of  one's  wife, 
that  domination  culminates  in  the  very  act  of  yielding  the 
sceptre.  None  but  a  king  can  relinquish  dominion.  They  who 
resist  that  gentle  sway,  and  tear  away  those,  silken  chains,  are  not 
husbands — they  are  bluebeards ;  and  the  clearest  records  of  the 
world's  long  history  teaches  the  same  lesson.  No  race  has  ever 
been  dominant  where  women  did  not  reign.  The  Boinan,  lord  of 
the  earth,  growing  corrupt  in  success,  reversed  this  beneficent 
law  of  the  race,  and  was  exterminated  by  the  rude  Gothic  tribes, 
whose  distinguishing  characteristic  was  deference  to  the  gentle  sex. 
And  now  that  the  domination  has  passed  into  Anglo-Saxon 
humanity,  let  us  be  grateful  that  deference  to  the  woman,  the 
queen  of  love  and  beauty,  still  distinguishes  that  race  from  all 
others  on  the  surface  of  the  planet.  The  reign  of  the  distaff  is  the 
hope  of  the  world !" 


L'ENVOL  281 

OHAPTEE    LYI. 

L'ENVOI. 

threads  dropped  here  and  there  in  the  foregoing 
history  remain  to  be  gathered  up.  The  author  intended  the 
concluding  words  of  the  previous  chapter  to  be  the  concluding 
words  of  the  story,  but  some  critics  who  have  patiently  read  thus 
far,  profess  great  interest  in  the  minor  characters  and  demand  a 
more  minute  account  of  their  sayings  and  doings.  They  also  com 
plain  of  vagueness  in  portions  of  the  story,  where  it  was  supposed 
the  imagination  of  the  reader  would  supply  deficiencies,  and  fill 
up  all  lapses.  Those  of  the  aforesaid  critics  that  object  to  weird 
and  inexplicable  touches  here  and  there,  now  demand  a  matter  of 
fact  solution  of  those  portions  of  the  Red  Hall  legend  that  refer 
to  the  unexpected  appearance  of  the  Countess  DeLys,  at  the  crisis 
of  Sir  Ranald's  history;  and  also  an  explanation  of  a  prophecy 
spoken  by  a  lady  who  was  supposed  to  be  comfortably  defunct  at 
the  date  of  its  utterance. 

The  ruins  of  Lacy  Keep  still  stand,  the  walls  now  overgrown 
with  ivy.  On  that  part  of  the  inner  wall,  where  Sir  Ranald's  room 
was  supposed  to  be,  there  is  a  fragment  of  a  stone  stairway,  built 
in  the  thickness  of  the  wall,  connecting  this  room  with  the  cham 
ber  above.  No  doubt  this  communication  was  hidden  by  wains 
coting,  which  had  been  destroyed  by  the  lightning-kindled  con 
flagration,  when  Sir  Elbert  died.  And  sight-seers  who  visit  the 
locality,  and  listen  to  Mrs.  Froome's  miraculous  stories,  point  to  this 
crumbling  ruin,  and  assert,  with  great  complacency,  that  the 
Countess  had  traversed  this  hidden  passage,  and  after  filling  her 
auditors  with  terror  at  her  dismal  rhyme,  had  returned  to  her 
chamber,  and  died  outright.  The  old  dame  rejects  the  hypothesis 
with  high  scorn,  and  holds  to  her  original  theory,  as  hinted  in  the 
body  of  this  narrative.  The  modern  portion  of  the  Red  Hall  is 
uninjured,  and  occupied  by  Kitty — Lady  Lacy — whose  life  is  spent 
in  the  practice  of  unobtrusive  charities,  that  perpetually  contra 
dict  her  cold,  impassive  exterior.  The  rare  occasions  when  this 
coldness  gives  place  to  tokens  of  pleasure,  are  those  in  which  Mr. 
Barston  and  Nellie  pay  brief  visits  to  the  Red  Hall.  Mrs.  Bars- 
ton  has  never  revisited  the  place,  since  the  day  when  the  stately 
Keep  was  transformed  into  a  ruin. 


282  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

John  Hawder  is  steward  of  Mr.  Barston's  estate.  Sometimes  lie 
finds  willing  listeners,  to  whom  he  recounts  certain  portions  of  his 
American  adventures,  in  which  Mr.  Barston  figures  once  and  again. 

Tommy  Dawson  cultivates  the  soil  at  Eipple  Farm.  All  his 
wounds  are  healed,  except  the  portentous  gash  in  his  face,  which 
his  wife  daily  fills  with  dumplings.  He  still  talks  of  his  version 
of  the  descent  of  man,  comprised  in  a  short  chapter  that  only  tells 
of  his  rapid  journey  from  the  cliff  to  the  beach  below.  The 
favourite  item  in  this  account  is  the  "  sawing  of  a  'ole  in  his  'ead" 
by  Dr.  Cardon;  and  Tommy  describes  his  emotions  under  the 
"  hoperation  "  with  grisly  minuteness,  which  is  the  more  remark 
able  as  he  was  in  a  comatose  state  when  the  sawing  was  done. 
Mrs.  Dawson,  the  dowager,  is  the  ultimate  authority  at  Ripple, 
and  Jenny  is  the  most  dutiful  of  daughters,  and  a  prime  favourite 
with  the  old  dame,  whose  chief  solace  (after  curd-making)  is  to 
coddle  the  later  generation  of  Dawsons,  with  flaxen  heads,  and 
mouths  constructed  with  due  reference  to  dumplings.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Barston  take  frequent  equestrian  trips  to  Ripple,  accom 
panied  by  Nellie,  who  is  the  sole  owner  of  a  Mexican  pony,  that  is 
a  natural  pacer  and  docile  as  little  Laura's  lamb. 

The  Diamonds.  Fo  one  knows  the  fate  of  the  Lacy  Diamonds 
but  Swiss  and  his  wife.  Both  shrunk  from  telling  the  story,  and  if 
it  were  not  that  no  secrets  are  withheld  from  each  other,  both 
would  have  refrained  from  the  subject,  even  between  themselves. 
On  the  day  of  their  marriage,  Mr.  Barston  presented  his  bride 
with  the  box  he  had  picked  up  oh  the  deck  of  the  steamer.  She 
opened  it,  and  discovered  a  necklace  of  sparkling  gems. 

"My  diamonds!''  she  exclaimed. 

Swiss  said  nothing. 

She  took  out  the  jewels,  held  them  up  to  the  light,  kissed  them, 
and  dropped  a  joyful  tear  or  two,  and  clasped  them  round  her 
neck.  Then  she  took  them  off  and  examined  them  narrowly. 

"  Where  did  you  get  them  f  she  said. 

"  Do  you  recognize  them,  Ret  T 

"  Yes.    They  are  not  the  same  diamonds  that  I  lost." 

"  Will  any  one  else  detect  the  difference  f '  said  Swiss. 

"  I  think  not.  The  necklace  is  a  little  tighter  on  my  neck  and 
the  gold  is  brighter.  They  are  almost  exactly  like  the  others. 
Tell  me  about  them." 

"I  persuaded  Clare  to  steal  your  brooch,  and  your  Mother  de 
scribed  the  original  necklace  to  me.  A  London  jeweler  did  the 
rest." 


L'ENVOL  283 


"  And  you  Lave  spent- 


"  Nothing.  When  you  drove  me  away,  three  years  ago,  I  went 
to  Charleston.  Before  I  left  I  bought  a  blockade  runner  and  her 
cargo  of  cotton.  She  escaped,  and  reached  Liverpool  in  safety. 
A  week  before  Nellie  was  stolen  away  from  you,  I  sold  vessel  and 
cargo.  The  necklace  represents  the  difference  between  my  outlay 
and  the  proceeds.  The  former  owner  was  a  young  Englishman, 
who  had  invested  all  his  fortune  in  this  venture.  The  blockade  was 
rigid,  and  the  escape  of  the  ship  seemed  impossible.  He  applied 
to  me  for  advice,  bringing  his  young  wife  with  him.  Oh,  Eet,  she 
reminded  me  of  you  !  So  sweet,  so  gentle,  so  good  !  They  were 
British  subjects,  and  could  get  through  the  lines,  if  they  had  the 
money  that  was  locked  up  in  the  "  Nellie  "  and  her  cargo.  My 
advice  was  to  sell  the  ship  to  me,  to  take  what  money  I  had  to 
spare,  and  a  cheque  on  my  bankers  in  London  for  the  rest.  While 
I  was  irresolutely  considering  the  matter,  he  happened  to  mention 
the  name  of  his  vessel,  the  "  Nellie,"  and  I  was  then  compelled  to 
buy  her.  On  the  next  night  there  was  an  easterly  storm,  and  I 
sent  the  ship  out  in  the  teeth  of  the  gale.  The  blockading 
squadron  was  obliged  to  stand  out  to  sea,  and  the  "  Nellie,"  cross 
ing  the  bar,  ran  down  the  coast  and  escaped.  It  was  my  first  and 
last  commercial  exploit,  and  I  dedicated  the  proceeds  to  you. 

"  My  darling  !  if  you  and  I  can  thus  bury  the  story  of  the  real 
Diamonds,  as  deeply  as  they  were  buried,  'full  forty  fathoms 
down '  under  the  sea,  I  know  of  nothing  except  the  joy  of  calling 
you  my  wife  that  could  so  much  comfort  me.  Shall  it  be  so  ?" 

The  answer  was  audible,  but  inarticulate. 

"  Do  you  know,  Ket,"  said  Swiss,  blushing  like  a  girl,  "  that  I 
cannot  help  rejoicing  at  the  loss  of  those  horrible  diamonds  !  My 
Mother  has  told  me  the  story  of  the  Eed  Lacy  a  hundred  times, 
and  I  have  always  thought  of  the  jewels  as  the  messengers  of 
Satan  !  I  had  never  seen  them,  until  that  night,  when  Elbert  cast 
them  into  the  sea,  and  I  knew  instinctively  that  they  were  the 
same  accursed  baubles  that  had  been  bloodstained  a  dozen  times. 
My  Mother  said  the  necklace  alone  belonged  to  the  Lacys.  The 
earrings  and  brooch  were  added  by  Mrs.  Lacy  Harwood  two  or 
three  generations  ago.  And  now,  my  beloved,  you  have  the  full 
set,  without  the  curse — for  the  curse  is  under  the  ocean.  There 
were  some  lines  that  my  Mother  used  to  repeat,  but  they  have 
escaped  me " 

lie  was  interrupted  by  Eet,  who  took  the  jewel  case,  and 


284  THE  LACY  DIAMONDS. 

removed  the  false  bottom.  A  small  piece  of  parchment  fell  out. 
It  was  yellow  -with  age,  and  when  Barston  unfolded  it,  the  antique 
characters  traced  on  it  were  almost  invisible.  With  some  difficulty 
he  read  as  follows  : 


"fclje  Cotg  tljat  Ijoltetl)  tl;e  Heb  j^all  anb  fee 
51  score  anb  a  Ijalf  scow  Ije  it  core  sjjall  see, 
'Sill  tljc  jewel  from  hin-bloob  be  wasljeb  in  tlje  sea, 

3nb  tempest  anb  flame 

£mtte  tlje  last  of  ttye  name 
UJttl)  tlje  Ijall  of  Ijts  fathers,  tljts  toeirb  shall  tljeji  bree!" 

They  sat  in  silence  a  few  minutes. 

"  Eet  !"  said  Barston,  with  a  puzzled  air,  "  what  do  you  think 
of  these  lines  P 

"  I  don't  think  much  of  them,"  she  answered  indifferently. 

"But  Eet  !  these  lines  were  written  hundreds  of  years  ago." 

«  I  don't  believe  it." 

"  They  were  certainly  written  three  or  four  years  ago  !" 

"  Yes." 

"  Well  1  their  accurate  fulfilment  is  overwhelming  to  me  !" 

"The  coincidences  are  a  little  remarkable,"  she  answered. 
"  Mrs.  Froome  told  me  the  old  story  before  I  was  married.  It 
made  a  deep  impression  upon  me,  probably  because  of  Mrs. 
Froome's  dramatic  manner.  I  forgot  the  lines  she  repeated,  but 
retained  the  idea,  and  candour  compels  me  to  confess  that  I  wrote 
the  doggerel  you  have  just  read." 

"  But  the  old  parchment  !  the  faded  ink  !" 

"  Oh,  that  was  nothing  in  comparison  with  a  hundred  tricks  of 
yours,  you  old  deceiver  !  I  got  some  parchment  from  Father, 
smoked  it,  diluted  some  ink,  and  made  the  rhyme.  I  spent  half  a 
day  over  it  !" 

"  The  next  generation,"  said  Swiss,  "  will  swear  that  those  lines 
were  written  after  the  events.  It  is  in  this  way  that  fellows  who 
don't  believe  in  ghosts  or  legends  get  rid  of  testimony  !  But,  my 
dear,"  he  continued,  with  tremulous  anxiety,  "  do  you  intend  to 
grind  out  any  more  poetry  ?  I  know  a  poetess  in  London  who 
puts  things  in  the  magazines.  She  has  a  bald  place  on  the  top  of 
her  head,  and  wears  green  spectacles,  and  looks  like  the  demented 
old  idiot  she  is  !" 

"  No  more  poetry,  Mr.  Barston.  My  first  and  last  effort  is  this 
short  requiem  over 

"THE  LACY  DIAMONDS." 


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